#he knows her for who she is and so she can trust his judgement when he tells her who he knows her to be

[chosows]

FORBIDDEN ADDICTION

Sukuna x Fem Reader

Summary: You were framed. Set up by your ex for something you did not do. The lies he spread managed to wrap you up in a court case, resulting in you losing everything you had once come to love—you lost your entire life as you used to know it. Though you were proven innocent, it did not alter the harsh judgements others had already executed upon you. They outcast you from society; you’re now dwelling in areas they could only imagine in their worst nightmares.

Word count: 3.2k

Contains: Established relationship, slight degrading, fingering, oral sex, throatfucking, light bondage, penetration, creampie, mentions of substances, brief angst, comfort, dealer!sukuna, fem!reader, sukuna is not yuji, both reader + sukuna are in mid-late 20s, alternate universe: no curses

Note: this is the sukuna takeover

Harrowing silence drones as your heels clack against the pavement, the sidewalk illuminated by weak street lights. Life decided to dump the worst period of misfortunate events on you in the span of three weeks, and you are living through the aftermath. Police investigations, termination of your job, being kicked out of your original tenancy, and now forced to live in a rundown area surrounded by high-risk individuals. Your family wants nothing to do with you, nor do your friends—none of this is your fault. You feel like bursting into tears when you wake up every morning; not a thing you have done could equate to you deserving this. There’s nothing you can do—this is how you have to live. The words of deceit others can use against you are the most powerful weapon; you do not need to be armed to destroy another person. Those you trust may not be as innocent as they seem; it’s not the case of who, it’s when. 

Forcing the key into the lock, you launch your purse into the hallway and groan. This house is falling to pieces—the glass in the window shaking from the force you slammed the door shut. The wood is rotting, the paint is peeling from the walls, and you don’t have a bed frame—just a thin mattress on the floor. You storm into the bathroom and toss your clothes into the laundry basket; the pain from painting yourself presentable only to be denied from the job interview has pushed you over the edge. How could the people who know you better than anyone else not take your side? Even if the court has proven you innocent, your reputation will forever remain tainted. Your ex wanted to make you miserable, and he won. Won over the heart of the people who created you, making them toss their own flesh and blood away so carelessly.

Strutting through the halls of the house in your lingerie, you peek out the kitchen window and see the gathering in the backyard—this was nothing uncommon; this is how it works around here. A woman passes you as you make your way up the stairs, jabbing a needle straight into her arm to chase that high she craves. She had a sparse head of hair and bones visible for the eye to see—a long-time heroin addict. While it frightened you at first, you had gotten used to it quickly; she was one of the kinder ladies you are familiar with. You’ve been here for a year, witnessing more concerning scenarios than a few drug addicts lurking around your house. You were lucky enough to bump into a dealer who opened his home to you; he’s been here his entire life, understanding the ins and outs of all residents in the area. He finds the position you’re in amusing—a well-off girl forced out of the big city and into the areas they hide from the likes of civilians like you. The two of you grew close quickly, resulting in a relationship blossoming.

As part of your agreement, you keep this place together. All of the cleaning, cooking, and laundry is your responsibility. You serve to please him—that’s how you keep this roof over your head. A potent smell of cannabis wafts out from the open door, and a whistle catches your attention. You turn around, noticing Sukuna beckoning you over. It took you a month to learn his real name; he goes by a multitude of different nicknames, claiming it’s the best way to keep his identity concealed. His legs are spread wide and he nods his head when you step into the shared bedroom, a motion for you to close the door behind you. He was scruffy-looking with his unshaved stubble and untamed hair; unlike many other men, he’s able to pull off an unkempt look.

“You alright, Princess?” Plumes of smoke exit his mouth as he shifts, thrusting his hips up to reposition himself. Princess was the title given to you due to your background. Compared to him, you lived a life of royalty.

“I didn’t get the job.” You pierce your lips together and sit on his knee, his arm sliding you closer to his torso.

“Told you, didn’t I? You can’t have shit when you live out here—they want us to stay ruined.”

“I just want to go home.” You sniffle, voice wavering while tears leak from your eyes, leaving patches on his hoodie.

“Is this place not enough for you?”

You didn’t answer—he knows more than anything that you aren’t cut out for this lifestyle, but that doesn’t make him sympathise with you. Since you got here, he made it clear you knew that once you stepped into this world, there would be no going back. Specifically, the fact that you not only entered this life of depravity but also his personal space. Your empty tears are worthless, though he continues to comfort you, giving you that sense of security he needs you to keep. Sukuna has big plans for you, whether you agree with the future he has chosen for you is no longer yours to comment on. He provides for you, meaning you rely on him. If you fail to please, you lose the few luxuries you are given; a cruel but useful dynamic—at least in his case.

“If you want a job so bad, I know a guy that does porn. I could hand you over to him—” Noticing the low pitch of his tone, you could sense Sukuna’s mood shifting. He has very little patience, and prodding the wrong nerve is not something you would like to do.

“No! No, I’m fine. It was worth a try, wasn’t it?” You wipe away your tears and gaze up at him, his stoic face possessing the most handsome features you have ever seen. His face was covered in tattoos, much like the rest of his body.

“I think you’re just ungrateful. You have it better than everyone else here, yet you still find a way to complain.” His rough flesh rubs against you while he holds your face in his hand, glaring at you with a blank expression.

“I am grateful, I really am, but—”

“You can’t even put on an act when we have sex; at least pretend you’re enjoying it,” He shoves you off of him and stands up, pulling the skin of his face down while he stands by the window, “I give you everything and you can’t give me anything in return. How useless are you?”

“What?” 

“What? You know you put no effort in. You don’t even open your mouth properly when you give head. I’ve got every right to take you off your birth control; you should be grateful I put you on it in the first place.”

“Why are you arguing with me—”

“Because you’re pissing me off. It’s every day I hear you bitch on about how much you miss your life—you’re fucking living it; how delusional are you? The world doesn’t stop spinning just because you’re unhappy. You made mistakes, shouldn’t have dated that asshole, and now you have to live through the consequences of your actions.” He yells, causing you to flinch. His tone frightens you; he hardly ever bothers to raise his voice unless you persistently step out of line.

“You know I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Tough shit; my opinion doesn’t matter anyway. It never has.”

“I didn’t mean to upset you—”

“You knew what you were saying; don’t pull that card. I know I can’t give you everything, but I’m giving you what I have. Do you know how much that takes for someone like me?”

“I’m sorry,” You mutter, lip quivering as you glance at him, your pretty face moulded with a pitiful frown.

“Do you know how lucky you are that I’m the person who took you in? Any other man around here would have sold you off for some extra cash,” He tosses the roach of his joint out the window and strides back over to you, trapping you in his full embrace, “I didn’t mean to raise my voice at you, baby. You know better than to say things like that. I do everything for you to live comfortably. I know this place isn’t exactly a dream, but I can’t do anything about that.”

“Don’t cry, come on,” He lies down flat and positions you on his chest, firmly holding your hand in his, “There’s a reason I chose to keep you. You’re the smartest girl I know; you’ve cut me a lot of slack—I appreciate that.”

“That’s because every other woman around here is a brainless drug addict that you profit off; they’d sleep with you if they knew they could get anything for free.”

“Doesn’t matter. They choose to put these drugs into their system; I’m just providing it to them. Women like that have never been my type; I like them like you.”

His hand rubs up and down your back, a poor effort to console you through your sobs. After a while, your eyes grow dry; you remain on top of him, intently listening to the thumps of his heartbeat. It remained silent until you began to stir, sitting up abruptly to stretch your exhausted body.

“I thought you looked stunning today. I would’ve given you the job if I were your interviewer.” His index finger traces circles on your palm; Sukuna’s way of apologising is by not saying the words but finding an alternative which had the same effect.

“I didn’t mean to ruin your mood, Sukuna. I’m glad I have you; it’s a relief to not go through this alone—I appreciate what you have done for me.”

“I’ll always be here. Won’t forget about me if you make it back to the city, will you?”

“I’d take you with me.”

“Look at you, sweet-talking me,” He drags you down and connects his lips with yours, luring you in with his passion, “Can’t leave me behind; looks like someone got attached.”

“Are you not going to deny it?” He grins, revealing his snaggletooth. He looks sinister in a desirable way, a forbidden guilty pleasure.

With his filthy words laced in a silvery tone, you grew flustered quickly. Sukuna may not be financially well-off, but he is rich in experience. His hands drift down down your body, brushing over the outline of the design on your panties. Before you know it, he slips his fingers under the material and comes in contact with your increasingly soaked cunt. He has you in his hand, his puppet; you whine as he relentlessly toys with your clit, his thumb brash with its rough motions. 

“You should be ashamed. Do you get off when I talk down on you?” He slips one finger in your hole—an easy entrance. You shake your head and he cackles—a lie the oblivious would catch onto, “Only a whore could get herself that wet before being touched; maybe you do belong here.”

Since one finger has no impact, he slips a second one in and curls them inside, forcing them deeper and sensing your walls tighten around him. You could no longer deny your arousal when the obscene sounds of your cunt were all you could hear—even your own body has betrayed you. Sukuna was ruthless; the force at which his fingers were fucking you was to his liking, ignoring the pleas and whimpers you murmur between moans. 

“I truly have never met anyone as pathetic as you. You whine about your old life, refuse to make changes, but stay to flaunt your tits and give your pussy away to a felon,” Sukuna lowers himself, his moistened lips pressed against your neck, “You’ve never had any self-respect.”

Sliding his fingers out, he shoves them into your mouth, expecting you to clean your slick off of him. You could taste yourself on your tongue—a flavour you aren’t familiar with. He was treating you with no regard, vigorously manoeuvring you into a new position while he pulled down his pants. Since you weren’t moving at his speed, you were dragged down to your knees, legs colliding with the wooden floorboards.

“You’re going to open your mouth properly for me this time, aren’t you?” He digs his hand into your hair, bunching up enough of it to get a firm grip. You nod while he pulls his dick from his boxers, rubbing the tip against your lips, “Nice and wide.”

Preparing yourself mentally, you slowly unhinge your jaw before he forces your head down, pushing his entire length to the back of your throat. Your initial reaction was to pull away, but he held you there while you clung to his thighs. You made your first mistake by letting him get his way, abusing the privilege of bobbing your head recklessly. It was becoming hard to breathe, your eyes welling with tears as you struggled to take him. A knock on the bedroom door catches his attention, grunting before he calls out.

“Who is it?” Sukuna didn’t think to give you a break, he instead continued to throatfuck any thoughts out of your brain, wiping your mind clean. 

“I need my fix.” The unfamiliar voice grovelled, attempting to rattle the door handle open.

“Kenjaku is—” Sukuna bites his tongue, attempting to suppress his groan, “—In the backyard. I’m busy.”

“He doesn’t have what I need.”

“He will if you ask; he’ll get it for you. Doesn’t take much to—” Sukuna curses and pulls your head back, watching the strings of saliva spill out your mouth. Your lips are swollen, cheeks drenched from tears, all while his cum rests on your tongue.

The presence at the door no longer remains and Sukuna continues stroking his dick, allowing the last drops of cum into your mouth. With that look on his face, you knew exactly what he was telling you to do. You closed your mouth and swallowed, then stuck your tongue to show him it was gone. This is a routine experience; you know the exact procedure he likes to maintain.

“It’s much better for both of us when you open your mouth properly, isn’t it?” He hoists you up and you nod, slung into his arms bridal style as your body plummets onto the mattress, “Get on your stomach.”

Rummaging around the floor, Sukuna finds his belt and binds your wrists together, minimising your freedom to move as you please. You have no support in this position, your face shoved into the pillow with one hand crushing your skull flat. Sliding inside of you with little time to waste, he begins his thrusts hard, exerting as much force as he can to earn a squeal from you. Repeating it several times, he finds the spot which allows him to continue at ease, your cunt welcoming him as he pushes deeper inside. His fingers were pitching your skin from how roughly he was holding your hips, the occasional slaps of your ass not helping distinguish between pleasure and pain.

Before he pulls out, he plants kisses down the centre of your spin, undoing your bound wrists. He rests his back against the wall and carts you on top of him, lining his tip with your entrance. You slide your hands under his hoodie, patting around his abdomen, attempting to peel it off of him. Noticing your struggle, he removes it himself and places it aside, now shirtless as you snuggle your face into the crook of his neck. Sukuna knew this was one of your favourite positions; you ramble on about how close it makes you feel to him all the time. This is something he rarely gives to you; he finds himself coming to enjoy it too.

“Look at me; I want to see that beautiful face,” He scratches the side of your neck as he slowly inched his way inside your sopping hole. You struggle to find the strength to push yourself up, but you manage it with his assistance, “You’re doing so well today. Fucking soaking, you know I love it when you get like that.”

“I never meant to hurt your feelings; I know you’re innocent. My angel has never done a single thing wrong,” The hand cupping your cheek makes it feel as though you’re melting into his palm, his touch delicate unlike the way he’s fucking you, “I’d kill that bastard myself for the way he spoke about you.”

“He doesn’t know what he’s missing. Didn’t know how to make you cum and treated you like shit either way,” Sukuna cackles, his heavy breathing fanning across your face, “If you’re going to be an asshole at least fuck your girl properly. Right?”

“His dick was too small—” You bite your lip and whine as he grinds your hips, his tip massaging your g-spot, “—And he was ugly.” Sukuna releases an amused huff and plasters your face with pecks, soothing you as loud moans spill from your mouth.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” Cum leaks from Sukuna’s tip, doing his best to last longer before his orgasm reaches its peak. The way your walls had tightened as you unleashed your orgasm didn’t help him, his grunts filling your ear.

“Yes, ‘feels really good.” You mutter, beginning to slur your words as your eyes close over—body already overstimulated.

That was enough to cause the coil in Sukuna’s core to snap, his cum now spurting out, claiming you internally as he does externally. You slump onto his sweaty chest and his arms wrap around you, keeping his dick inside you for a while longer as you both come down from the high. His chest was heaving, and your legs were aching from the extended period you were held in certain ways.

“I’ll get us out of here one day. I know you hate it,” Sukuna’s voice comes across more mellow than it usually is, passing the warm intent he intends to convey, “Move out of this state, leave all this behind. Get a nice house, get married, have a few kids. Everything you should’ve had.”

“I hope he regrets everything he’s ever done to me, Sukuna.” You sniffle, eyes locked as he slides the strap to your bra back up.

“He will. Do you think he’ll ever be happy?” Sukuna slides off of the mattress, catching a glimpse of the mixture of cum pouring out of your cunt, dripping down your inner thigh, “I think he’ll be miserable.”

“He took nearly all of my money—the money that I earned. He’ll never amount to anything without me.” 

Grabbing a towel from the chest of drawers, he wipes you clean and pulls your panties back up. You continue to rant about how you pray for your ex’s downfall; meanwhile, he is too focused on getting you comfortable. While you’re rambling on, you lift your arms up without thinking and his hoodie covers you up, snapping you back from your hateful rant.

“What would you like?” Sukuna rummages through the pockets of his pants, hurling his phone into your hands.

“What do you mean?”

“Is there anything you want to buy?” He hums, putting on a clean shirt while dressing himself properly.

“Maybe a new pair of heels.” You beam, unlocking his phone and opening straight up to the browser.

“Find yourself some and show me. Do you want to say hello to everyone downstairs?” 

“Not really.” You poke your tongue out slightly as you sift through pages of shoes, now in your own world.

“I’ll be back up soon; I’ll buy you a little something extra tomorrow too.” 

[star-sparkler]

How does August fare growing up in a house with a ton of traumatized turtles?

(obviously they wouldn't let it affect her in any harmful way, but like, to what extent does she know of the stuff the boys went through?)

I feel like the fandom REALLY likes the boys being broken forever but that's not a story I'm interested in telling in August's AU. Yes, the boys still carry scars and hurts from their pasts but they're also adults who have learned and grown and gone through years of therapy and come out the other side better for it. Even if they have bad days, they've learned how to address their problems in healthy ways. They've also built a strong emotional support system with their family and friends, so they're not alone either. If someone is struggling, the brothers know they can turn to their loved ones for help and will receive it without judgement. Do they still dig their heels in on that sometimes? Sure. But the others are pretty good at reading their cues and doing what they can to help loved ones out of slumps. August AU turtles took/take care of their emotional/physical/etc needs, so they're overall well adjusted, healthy, and happy. August also knows her family is made of heroes, and that being heroes isn't easy. The family doesn't hide their adventures from her, they just might leave out certain details of an event to make it less scary (Donnie has always been very straight forward with August - neither of them are good liars and neither of them WANT to lie to each other - so trust and honesty are important aspects of their relationship). Kid August knows that at one point, for example, her Uncle Leo was in the prison dimension with the Krang. It was scary, but he was rescued by his family and everything was okay in the end. She might not initially be told he intentionally trapped himself there, how that hurt the family and what that could imply. If August pressed for details on anything though, she would get them. She also knows sometimes those events will still upset Uncle Leo and the rest of the family but if someone's not doing well then they take care of themselves and gets better again. It does become important to be more detailed about stories like the Krang invasion as August grows and insists on carrying on the Hamato legacy / being a 'hero' / fighting for and protecting others. It's not always "hero beats up bad guy and the day is saved hooray!"- she needs to know and understand what she could potentially be up against, that the hero isn't guaranteed a victory and there can be a lot of damage done along the way. The fact that her family is there for her no matter what happens though, is also reinforced. They're careful not to make their fears into hers. So if there's lasting trauma from their battles, August doesn't feel it inflicted on to her. She just knows if she sees a faraway look in a loved ones eyes and they flinch when she gently touches their hand, she'll be extra nice to them that day and ask if they want to have a cup of tea and a piece of fruit with her. Long story short: realistically yes there would likely be residual trauma and the existence of mental health struggles wouldn't be hidden from August. But my turtles are grown adults with lots of therapy and support. Life is messy, and you can't clean up every mess, but there are futures where everything is ultimately okay, even if it's not perfect. Kids are smart, they'll often see between the cracks of what's said. But these turtles recover and grow and get better. So August is raised in a very happy, healthy, and honest family. They're excellent role models.

[thatscarletflycatcher]

*And another one*

I don't hate Rory, but I still think Mitchum was right, and I also don't think he was conspiring against Rory and Logan's relationship, and I also don't think he was extraordinarily mean and harsh (read extraordinarily as "beyond average experience of people in such a situation").

First thing: neither Mitchum nor Rory when speaking of her career are speaking of her becoming an average, serviceable, or even a competent desk research journalist. All references we get to the sort of job Rory aspired to is the kind of aggressive, go get it journalism: running through war zones, uncovering conspiracies, relentlessly pursuing the news and truth, demanding it, tearing it from people that don't want to give it.

And in that, Mitchum is right: Rory doesn't have what it takes. She's a kind, shy, sensitive people pleaser. She works well in structures where her duties and perks are delineated, where she receives encouragement, support and praise. She's not an entrepreneur the way Jess is, for example.

And her internship proved it. She did not push Mitchum to give her what she needed, she did not take every opportunity to showcase her talent, she just looked around and settled for the secretarial and managerial tasks no one else was doing. Which I think are important tasks that require skills that are not as easily found as you might think (punctuality, asiduity, patience, a well organized mind, manners and words that make other people cooperate with you and with each other, ability to recognize people's talents and put them to good use, comprehension of the big picture as a whole and in its details, all traits that Rory showed excellence in also later on in the DAR and as editor of the Yale Daily News).

Mitchum didn't tell her she didn't have what it takes to be successful in general or to work in journalism in general; he told her she didn't have what it takes to be a top dog aggressive reporter. And the series proves him right. Rory never becomes that, but she does become, an extraordinarily talented editor there where someone like Paris failed miserably.

As for the harshness, I'm not saying it is desirable, this is not "people need toughness to become good". But I was made to cry three times a year for three years as a student teacher. Every evaluation was a devastating list of all my failures in teaching a class. That wasn't the thing that made me a competent teacher, but I can attest to you none of those professors had any personal beef with me.

They weren't harsh or unfair for some secret motive. They had evaluated hundreds of students and I was just one more; the tearing to shreds of my classes was not personal. Mitchum is the owner of several newspapers and an empire. Rory is not the first person he has mentored, and given Logan's track record where he slept and fooled around with his sister's bridesmaids when his relationship with Rory had a couple months hiatus, Rory also isn't a specially distinct face in the universe of Logan's lady friends. We are so used to everyone seeing Rory in the show as super special, and also because she's a main character, but that doesn't mean everyone in her universe sees her that way.

I'm not saying that it's contradictory to canon the idea that Mitchum might have had second motives, but it's also not a given, and the opposite is as arguable and as plausible.

[peachesofteal]

Light on - single mom/neighbor fic - reader POV - 18+ MDNI Simon Riley/female reader

“Ye dinnae have tae worry.”

Johnny, Simon’s friend, or coworker, you guess, croons to the two of you, happy faced Emma bobbing in his arms. She’s perfectly content with him, her affinity for big strong men clearly grown since knowing Simon, when she took to him like a duck to water.

Still. You’ve never left your baby in the care of a stranger.

Simon, somehow, senses the hesitance. Sees the tepid enthusiasm, a big palm settling at the middle of your back, mouth leaning close to hover above your ear. “If you’re not sure, we can stay in.”

“No!” You settle as quickly as you can after the blurted admission, embarrassment simmering away in your gut. “No, sorry. I trust you... I trust your judgement.” You motion to Johnny, who’s watching you with a serious expression. “I’m sure it will be fine, it’s just-“

“You’ve only ever left her with me.” He finishes for you, and you look up at him, relieved to find soft brown eyes crinkling with understanding, sweetness. The tender affection you’ve come to know so dearly.

“Just that one time and- and she’s so little.” At the same time, she yawns, little chest rising and falling with a big exhale, tiny lids begrudgingly drooping shut. She’s just going to be sleeping anyway. Just go.

Another voice whispers in the back of your mind. One you haven’t heard for quite some time, urging you forward from beyond the light.

Be brave.

Dinner is great. Better than great, even. It’s… wonderful. Perfect. The restaurant is decked out for the holiday, and there are lights of every color strung from the rafters, soft music wafting and weaving through the throng of diners, low light accompanied with candles dotting each table. The food is delicious, aromatic and rich, and both you and Simon eat until you’re complaining of feeling too full, one last glass of wine settling into your veins with a giddy effervescent that makes you giggle just a little bit too much.

“We’re not due back for another hour.” He muses, after the check’s paid and you’re both lingering by the door, his warm hand squeezing yours. “Want to walk?” He motions to the green space across the block, the one that’s got a big tree glowing in the middle, flanked with a residential street all lit up, more lights and decorations shining into the night.

“These houses are pretty.” You murmur, cheek smushed against his bicep, arm wrapped around his like you’re a koala, and he’s your tree. Your shelter.

“You like ‘em?” You take a left, peeling off into the park, steps naturally in stride, and he adjusts, pulling his arm free to wrap it around your shoulder, heart warming in your chest when you feel his lips come down across your head overtop your hat, the touch alone enough to make you feel toasty all the way through your boots.

“Yeah. Always wanted Emma to have a yard, y’know?” You sigh. It’s not out of reach, so much, but everything was easier with two incomes, and before it was just you and her, you felt like the dream was nearly attainable. Nearly there. “One day.” You slow to a stop in front of a tree, it’s long trunk stretching towards the sky, barren branches wrapped in string lights, and turn expectantly, face tilted. Kiss me, you hope your expression tells him. Make me yours.

His mouth covers yours, fiercely, lips parting to work tongues and teeth together, fingers scrabbling across clothing, seeking, touching. You trace along the hem of his shirt, up under his jacket, his skin shivering beneath your touch, muscles tensing, shaking in the night. Your palm splays flat against his ribs, his abs, and you hum into his mouth, thighs pressing together at the feeling of him reacting to your touch. He’s been such a gentleman. So perfect, with you in his bed. He looked away, every time you tried to prance into the room in a too small pair of sleep shorts. He averted his eyes, when you rolled over without a bra on, breasts loose in your sleep t shirt. Even cuddling, waking up together, going to sleep... he was respectful. You wish he was just a little more willing… to be bad.

You tried not to think about the alternative. The idea that he’s seen your stretch marks, and stomach, enough to make you feel a little sick. You’ve been strategic about it, big shirts, hips covered, but what if…

You bury the thoughts. The dread and spiral that feels like circling the drain. The wine makes you feel bold, it makes you feel desperate to know. Does he want this?

“Simon.” You gasp, hardly separating yourself to speak. Instead, you feed your words to him, hoping they’ll sink through, hoping they’ll make sense. “I need- I want you to touch me.” He pulls away, hand cradling your cheek, leveling you with a serious look.

“We don’t have to rush this, sweetheart, I-“

“I’m not rushing.” More tongue. He tastes like the whiskey from dinner, and the tannins of your wine. Like the bread and the oil, rich silky texture, earth and salt exploding in your senses. “I’m ready.” You find his hand, pulling it from your cheek, dipping low to crawl up under the bottom of your sweater, until his knuckles are brushing against the skin of your diaphragm. There’s a sharp intake of breath and then-

His hand folds over the curve of your breast, thumb slipping inside the fabric of your bra, stroking across your nipple. When he feels it, firm against his touch, he groans, pressing closer, his body crowding yours against the tree. The width of his frame shields you, and he drifts low to your skirt, teasing his touch across your lower belly, fingers dipping into the waistband.

“You think you’re ready for me?” He hums in your ear, teeth grazing against the shell. You shudder, soft whine slipping free, and he shifts, hard cock swollen in his jeans, now pressing between your legs, making you throb for him beneath tartan and cotton. “Are you sure, sweetheart?” He slides his hand down, searching beneath your skirt, grazing along the outside of your panties. You close your eyes when his finger slips inside, stroking through where you know you’re ready, where you’re so wet, clit pulsing with desperation for him. He circles your entrance, dipping inside you and then out, stroking over your swollen bud, making you jolt and whimper in his hold. “Fuck.” He breathes.

“Yeah, I’m-“

“You’re soaked for me.” He kisses you, long and deep and furious, still working his finger gently back and forth. “This pussy been wet all night, honey?” Your eyes nearly roll back into your fucking skull, words failing on your tongue.

“Simon… I- yeah.”

“Want me to take you home, take care of you?” He presses deeper, heel of his hand making contact with your clit, thick finger sinking into you, moan swallowed by his mouth. “Think you can be quiet enough so you don’t wake the baby?” He thrusts, pressure grinding upwards, your walls clenching desperately. You nod frantically, but he doesn’t stop, keeps fucking up into you with his finger, bringing you dangerously close to the edge quicker than you ever thought possible.

“Fuck, I-“

“Shhh.” He hushes, mouth wide on your cheek before slotting his lips against yours and pulling free, finger falling away from your body. You watch with wide eyes as he brings it to his lips, slipping it inside to taste you, lashes fluttering like he’s dining on some sort of decadence. “I’ll give what you need sweetheart.” His forehead touches yours. “I’ll give you everything. I promise.” He swears, and something glints in his eyes, something serious, nearly predatory, severe and dedicated, so intense that it makes you shiver.

“Okay.”

[dixons-sunshine]

The Archer's Girl | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Summary: When the world ended, you and Daryl narrowly escaped the clutches of the dead and found yourselves in a quarry camp with Merle and some other people. Unwanted, someone in the camp takes a weird liking and disliking to you, and it made you extremely uncomfortable. Luckily, Daryl was there to stand up for you.

Genre: Fluff, some angst.

Era: Outbreak day; The Quarry.

Part of the Shopping Spree, Hangout Dreams AU but can be read as a standalone.

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of morning sickness.

Word count: 4.4k.

A/n: Damn, I love when two requests correspond with each other and I can get them both into one fic. It's my favourite thing in the whole world. However, I feel like Daryl is kinda ooc in this, but I tried to imagine how he'd be with a woman he just met at the quarry and started forming a relationship with vs how he'd be with someone he's been with since he was a teenager, and in my mind, he'd totally be softer regarding someone he already knows and loves vs one he's just getting to know. So soft!Daryl in this, it is! Also, Carol is being a supportive queen in this because @celtic-crossbow's Blood Ties series has made me appreciate Carol more and made me realize that she would always be so supportive of someone who's pregnant. Anyways, I hope you like this!

(specially dedicated to @mydearestdaryl because we planned this fic in my comment section a while ago and I'm only getting to it now.)

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

“Daryl!” you called out, trying to push past the stampede of people trying to hurriedly evacuate the store you were in. You were abruptly shoved into one of the shelves, a sharp pain shooting up your side. A loud curse escaped your lips as you clutched your side.

Barely one minute ago, you had strayed from Daryl's side to go grab some milk. You had told him that you would be right back, but with all the chaos that suddenly unfolded in front of you, you highly regretted leaving him at all. With everything going to hell, you could be separated from the man you loved. That thought terrified you.

However, as you turned around, nothing terrified you more than the sight that beheld you.

On the floor, a woman was screaming in pure, unadulterated agony. On top of her was a man who's body appeared to be decaying, and he ripped a huge chunk of her flesh from her chest. His grimy hands were clawing at her stomach, and with little to no effort, he tore her stomach open. The sight was truly mortifying, and it would never be erased from your mind.

A hand grabbed your wrist from behind. You flinched and tried to rip your hand from the person's grip, but the familiar voice of your husband calmed you down. However, when you looked at him, you were surprised to note the splatter of dark blood all over his clothes and face.

“S'me! S'jus' me!” he hurriedly explained. He cast one glance to the horrific sight before you before dragging you along with him, the two of you moving quickly. He stopped momentarily in front of one of the shelves to grab two knives, carefully pushing one of them into your hold. “Ya see one'a these dead motherfuckers, ya stab 'em in the head, alrigh'? S'the only way they drop dead.”

“What? I don't—”

“Dun' think 'bout it, peach!” he cut you off, pulling you with him out of the store again. “They ain't alive. The news weren't lyin' to us 'bout the dead risin'. We got a real fucking problem on our hands now.”

Choosing to trust his judgement, you nodded and hurried next to him. The two of you ran down the sidewalk, heading in the direction of your apartment. As you continued onward, you highly regretted deciding to walk to the store instead of taking Daryl's truck. It would've been a whole lot easier to escape the mess surrounding you if you had a vehicle.

Just as the two of you arrived at your apartment building, about a dozen of the undead people were stumbling out of the door. Daryl quickly pulled you with him to the parking area instead, making a beeline for his truck. However, more of those things flooded the area and a couple of them were heading straight towards you, and it was clear that the two of you weren't escaping without a fight.

“Ya got yer knife?” Daryl questioned, shooting a glance at you over his shoulder.

“Yeah,” you told him, gripping the knife so tightly, your knuckles started turning white.

“Good,” he replied, stepping forward to plunge his knife into the skull of one of the monsters. He withdrew the knife, holding it ready to use at a moment's notice. “Ya gotta stab 'em in the head as hard as ya can, alrigh'? Dun' think 'bout 'em bein' alive. These assholes ain't alive.”

“Don't worry about me trying to talk them out of eating me or something,” you scoffed, replicating the way he was holding his knife with your own. “I'm not that stupid. All these fuckers are getting from me is a fatal blow to the head. They're not touching me.”

“Atta girl,” he praised with a small smile. However, his attention soon got diverted back towards the flood of the undead stumbling around the parking area.

As the two of you continued onwards, Daryl repeatedly stabbed the heads of the monsters. By some miracle, the two of you made it to his truck without you having to do anything. However, just as Daryl was getting into the driver's seat and you were opening the door to the passenger seat, a slimy, blood covered hand gripped your arm tightly in its clutches.

You let out a small cry of terror, instantly alerting Daryl to your horrifying predicament. However, as you struggled against the literal death grip of the monster, its teeth trying desperately to take a chunk of your flesh, you realized that you couldn't wait for Daryl to come to your rescue. By the time he managed to make it towards the other side of the truck, you would already be doomed. You had to take matters into your own hands.

Shakily, you drew your hand that held the knife back and plunged it deep into the thing's skull with a sickening force. The monster miraculously fell limp with the first blow, its hand falling from your arm. However, before you could fully process that you had just killed something that was once human, Daryl took your face in his hands and checked you over, his eyes filled with fear. You had never seen him with as much terror in his eyes ever before.

“Are ya okay?” he asked in a hurried manner, his voice shaky. “Please tell me the prick didn't get ya. No bites, scratches, nothin'.”

“I'm okay,” you assured him, watching him calm down somewhat. “But we have to leave. Right now.”

“Yeah, let's g—”

The deafening sound of a gunshot echoed through the area, followed closely by the rumble of a motorcycle. When the motorcycle came into view, you were both simultaneously relieved and disappointed to see none other than Merle Dixon. He stopped his motorcycle once he saw you, an exasperated look on his face.

“Y'all jus' gon' stand there and get eaten or get in the fuckin' truck? I did not risk my life gettin' here jus' to watch y'all get eaten alive.”

Daryl opened the door to the passenger side and quickly ushered you in, shouting over his shoulder at Merle. “Wha' the fuck are ya even doin' here?!”

“Helpin' yer sorry ass!” Merle exclaimed, shooting at another oncoming monster. “C'mon, let's go!”

Daryl didn't need to be told twice. He rushed to the driver's side and hurriedly got in, starting up his truck and speeding out of the parking area, following behind Merle's motorcycle. With all the chaos that unfolded, the two of you hadn't even managed to go grab some clothes from your apartment. However, by some stroke of luck, as you glanced towards the back of the truck, you noted that two duffel bags were resting there, as well as a bag with everything needed to construct a tent and Daryl's crossbow. You thanked your lucky stars that the two of you had gone camping for his hunting trip two days prior, and forgot to remove everything from his truck. The clothes were dirty, sure, but once you found a body of water, you'd be able to wash them. And Daryl's crossbow would more than likely come in handy.

“Are ya okay?” Daryl asked, snapping you out of your thoughts. He was nervously chewing on his thumbnail, his eyes darting between you and the road.

You nodded at him, trying to calm your racing thoughts. In a matter of thirty minutes, your life had flipped upside down. You had killed someone, whether they were dead or not. The blood from the kill coated your skin and made you feel sick at your actions, but you tried to remind yourself that the thing you killed wasn't human anymore. If you didn't kill it, it would've killed you. It would've killed—

Gasping, you sat upright and clutched at your stomach. Daryl looked at you worriedly, his eyes trailing to your stomach. His eyes widened in terror, his grip on the steering wheel tightening even more, if possible.

“Wha's wrong?” he questioned. “Oh, god. S'somethin' wrong with Peanut? Did those pricks—”

“No! No, nothing's wrong,” you reassured him, your hand resting on your stomach. “It's just... With everything going on, I forgot about the baby. I forgot about my own child, Daryl. What kind of future mother does that make me?”

Daryl moved one of his hands to rest on your thigh, his thumb rubbing reassuring circles on the fabric of your jeans. He sent you a small smile, hoping to bring you some comfort.

“S'okay,” he told you. “Yer not gon' be a bad mom. With everythin' goin' on, yer body went into fight or flight mode. S'cause of it tha' ya managed to keep the baby in yer belly safe. And once they're here, I know yer gon' do yer absolute best to protect 'em.”

“I hope so,” you mumbled, resting your hand that wasn't on your stomach over his hand. “I really hope so.”

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

One month had passed. One month since the dead started walking. One month since everything you knew got destroyed. One month since you had stumbled upon a quarry camp filled with other survivors with your husband and brother-in-law. One month since your life turned upside down.

You sighed as you washed one of Daryl's jeans, subtly listening to the other women's conversation, the other women sitting quite a distance from you. Most of the women in the small camp you were in tended to keep their distance from you, deeming you damaged goods because of the people you were with. Well, more so because Merle was your brother in law. You and Daryl tended to keep to yourselves, with Daryl only speaking to others when absolutely necessary, but the same couldn't be said for his hotheaded older brother. Merle had made quite the impression, and not a good one. And automatically, by mere association, they had deemed you and Daryl the same. Most of the women simply referred to you as the archer's girl, and you were pretty sure they didn't even know your actual name.

Most of the women didn't even bother acknowledging your existence most of the time. The only exception was a sweet woman named Carol Peletier, who offered you her kindness whenever she talked to you. She offered you tips on how to properly scrub stains from jeans, on how to fix up the holes in your husband's socks, and so much more. She was the only one who you'd felt comfortable enough sharing the secret of your pregnancy with, so even though she promised not to tell anyone, she silently offered you her support, and gave you advice regarding your pregnancy by telling you stories about her own pregnancy with little Sophia. Carol was your only true friend there, and you deeply appreciated her.

Without her, you probably would've snapped at the other women there for the judgemental looks they threw your way, so you cherished the friendship you had formed with her.

The touch of a calloused yet gentle hand drew you from your thoughts. You looked up and locked eyes with your husband, his blue eyes staring down at you with a softness only reserved for you. You sent him a smile and dropped the pair of jeans you were washing on the ground, standing up to face him better.

“Ya know all'a tha' washin' s'now ruined 'cause ya dropped it in mud, righ'?” he told you playfully, sending you a small smile.

You smiled and shrugged. “It's your jeans. I've never heard you complain about a little mud on them before, considering those kills you have to skin that stained these jeans in the first place.”

Daryl chuckled and shook his head. “Yeah, yer righ',” he replied, before his smile fell and he adapted a more serious tone. “I have to go huntin'.”

“Again?” you asked incredulously, your mood visibly deflating. “You went on a hunt not even two days ago.”

“Yeah, I know,” Daryl sighed, fidgeting with his hands. “But tha' Shane prick demanded tha' I go on another hunt again fer some reason. I dun' know why, 'cause we have 'nough meat to last us another week or so, but he threatened to throw us out of the camp if I didn't go now. We can't leave. 'Specially not now.”

Your lips formed into a small smile as Daryl's eyes trailed down to your stomach, his eyes softening slightly as he thought about the life that fluttered there, the life that he had helped create. His very own son or daughter. A small being that he would go to great lengths to protect, even if they weren't born yet. His little Peanut.

You stepped forward and pressed a chaste kiss against his cheek, before withdrawing again. You giggled at the blush that spread across his face, and didn't miss the way his lips twitched up into a small smile. He could say whatever he wanted, but he secretly loved your little public displays of affection. It was never something big, like some passionate kiss or a full-blown make out session. It was always something small and sweet, something quick to show your affection without drawing too much attention to the two of you. A subtle graze of your hand against his, quick pecks on the cheek, a gentle squeeze on his shoulder, you name it. You knew how to show him love in public without making him uncomfortable, and he loved you for it.

“How long will you be gone?” you asked, nervously fidgeting with your fingers.

Daryl noticed and subtly took your hands in his, giving them a reassuring squeeze. “Ain't no tellin'. Walsh demanded tha' I find some venison, and tha' might take me a while. Dun' even know if there are any deer here.”

You pursed your lips and nodded. “Stay safe, okay? I love you.”

Daryl nodded. Stepping out of his own comfort zone, he leaned down and pressed a feathery light kiss to your lips. When he pulled back, he gently caressed your cheek. “Always am. And I love ya more, sunshine.”

With that, he turned around and left, leaving you standing alone with the unfinished laundry. Watching his retreating figure, you smiled fondly, completely missing the envious looks the other women were sending your way.

They hadn't heard your conversation, the two of you being too far away to overhear anything, but they did see the way the archer interacted with you. It was so vastly different from the way he talked to anyone, including his own brother, his own flesh and blood. It was clear there was a lot of history between the two of you, good and bad, and it made the two of you a strong couple. From what Merle had let slip in his high state once, the two of you had been together since you were both merely seventeen years old, and by the looks of it, the two of you were still going strong. The two of you radiated love for one another, and that's more than most could say about their own past relationships.

It was clear the two of you shared something special, and it was unfair to them that they couldn't find love like that. And with the world ending, they doubted that they ever would.

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

Three days had passed. Three days where Daryl was nowhere to be found. Three days where you had to deal with Merle's disgusting attitude on your own. Three days where you had to sleep alone in your shared tent, wishing he was there.

It seemed like baby Dixon noticed their father's absence, and they weren't happy about it. For the past three days, you hadn't managed to keep anything down in the depths of your stomach. Any and all food you ate came right back up again a few hours later, and it wasn't exactly pleasant. Thankfully, nobody saw you whenever you rushed to the bushes behind the RV to spew the contents of your stomach out, so nobody knew of your pregnancy yet.

And you had Carol by your side whenever your stomach rebelled against you, so that was a major plus.

“God, I hate this so much,” you groaned in frustration, eliciting a laugh from the woman gently rubbing your back.

“It's what comes with the joys of pregnancy,” she laughed lightly, continuing the circular motion on your back until you felt better. Once you stood upright, she handed you a bottle of water, encouraging you to drink as much as you needed to. “Drink up. You need to stay hydrated.”

Once you had enough to drink, you handed her the bottle again. “Thank you,” you thanked her, giving her a small smile. “How'd you handle it? The morning sickness, I mean.”

“I was lucky enough to only experience a mild case of morning sickness,” Carol explained, wrapping her arm around you and starting to walk with you back to the main campsite. “You know, and I'm not saying this to pressure you at all, but maybe you should tell everyone about your pregnancy. It would be good for Glenn to be on the lookout for prenatal vitamins.”

“I can't,” you denied. “Then everyone will look at me like I'm carrying the plague and see me as just another liability. I can't have that. Daryl and I can handle things on our own until we absolutely have to tell everyone.”

“Okay,” Carol replied, before shifting the conversation away from something that quite obviously stressed you out. “I drank a lot of herbal teas when I was pregnant. That seemed to really work for the nausea.”

“Just great,” you sighed, shaking your head. “Where the fuck are we supposed to find that?”

Carol smiled and gently rubbed your shoulder. “I'll see if Dale has some. I remember him mentioning something about ginger tea.”

“What if he asks why you need it?” you asked hurriedly, worry lacing your tone.

“Don't worry, I won't tell him,” she reassured you. “I'll just tell him I'm feeling nauseous. That something I ate isn't corresponding with my stomach. Trust me, he'll believe it.”

You sent her a smile. “Thanks, Carol. I mean it.”

She smiled at you before disappearing into the RV, on a search for Dale. You stood waiting outside, staring ahead at the treeline. You hoped that by continuously looking at it, your husband would appear from the trees with a deer over his shoulders, dirty but unharmed. Alas, as you had learned over the last few days, that didn't work, and you wished you could go out there and look for him yourself, but you knew he'd be extremely mad if you did.

No, your main priority was your baby at that moment. Your husband had shown time and time again that he could take care of himself, so you chose to believe that he'd be fine. You had to believe that, otherwise you'd spiral into an abyss you didn't want to go down.

The feeling of somebody standing next to you startled you. You stumbled and nearly fell, but the hands of the mystery person caught you. Looking up, you locked eyes with the self-appointed leader of the group, Shane Walsh. His brown eyes were staring down at you, a small grin on his face.

“Sorry, girl. Didn't mean to startle you,” he apologized, slightly rubbing your arms.

Feeling extremely uncomfortable, you shrugged his hands from your arms and took a step back, putting some distance between the two of you. You sent him a tight-lipped smile.

“It's okay,” you replied, hoping that he would end the conversation with that. However, the man had other plans.

“What's your story, lady?” he asked curiosly, leaning back against the metal of the RV, his eyes trailing over you in a way you didn't like.

“My story?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “What's a pretty girl like yourself doing with a lowlife nothing like Daryl Dixon? I mean, you could have anyone you want, but you chose him, the redneck. Why?”

“Because I love him,” you stated matter-of-factly, sending him a harsh glare that only seemed to spur him on even more.

“Bullshit. There's gotta be something to it,” he disagreed, chuckling at the glare on your face. “There's no way that a guy like that managed to pull someone like you. It goes against all the laws of the universe. So tell me, what's he got to offer? Is he paying you? Are you some prostitute he keeps around for his own pleasure or something? You certainly look pretty enough to have a guy pay you for something like that.”

Before you could stutter out an angry reply to Shane's deprecating accusation, a hand gently gripped your shoulder and pulled you aside. Looking up, you saw Daryl, an angry look in his eyes. Without a word, he stepped forward and viciously connected his fist with Shane's nose, hearing the satisfying crack of the bone there.

“Son of a bitch!” Shane exclaimed, bending over to clutch his nose in his hands. “What the fuck, Dixon?!”

Daryl gripped Shane by the collar of his shirt and shoved him against the side of the RV, a threatening glare on his face. Terror filled Shane's eyes, something unusual for the for the man. Everyone started gathering around the fighting pair, and Carol, who had rushed from the RV once she heard the commotion, pulled you back from the battle ground, holding you firmly against her side.

“Listen'a me real fuckin' close, Walsh,” Daryl spat angrily, his voice dangerously low. “I dun' care wha' ya say 'bout me, but if ya ever talk 'bout my pregnant wife like tha' again, I'll do so much worse than jus' break yer nose. Ya dun' talk to her, ya dun' look at her, ya dun' even breathe the same fuckin' air as her. If ya do, I'll skin ya alive and feed the remainin' pieces of ya to the walkers. Do I make myself clear?”

“Fuck you,” Shane groaned out.

“Yer venison's on the table. Next time, go hunt fer it yer fuckin' self.”

Without waiting for a response, Daryl shoved Shane harshly and turned around, meeting your eyes. Instead of finding fear in your eyes from his actions, he found adoration instead. You stepped out of Carol's hold and took Daryl's hand in your own, dragging him to your shared tent. You didn't even spare a glance at the people, so you missed the way all of their eyes widened at the realization that you were pregnant, that they had been unnecessarily rude to a pregnant lady that had done absolutely nothing wrong. They had been harsh to an expecting mother and father, for no reason at all. Everyone felt guilty, but the groan that Shane emitted caught their attention once again.

Back in your shared tent with Daryl, you were stood busy gently cleaning the blood from his split knuckles while the man sat on the cot. Daryl was avoiding your eyes, feeling ashamed of his actions. In all the years that you had been together, you had only seen him lash out like that once—one time when you were drinking together in a bar when you were twenty-four, a guy had grabbed your breast without your consent, and Daryl had completely lost it. After that, he swore he'd never act like that around you ever again, but Shane made him break that promise.

“I'm not mad, you know,” you finally broke the silence, watching the way his ocean coloured eyes flickered over to you, the confusion evident in them. “Shane got what he deserved. Quite honestly, I planned on punching him, too. You just beat me to it.”

“M'sorry,” Daryl mumbled, ducking his gaze to the floor. “I know ya can fight yer own battles. S'jus'... Hearin' the way he talked 'bout ya, like ya were some object who's worth he could judge... I dun' know. It made me pissed. Ya dun' deserve to be treated like tha'. 'Specially not when yer carryin' a baby in yer belly. Speakin' of, m'sorry I revealed yer pregnant. I know ya wanted to keep tha' hidden.”

You smiled and gently lifted his chin with your finger, gazing deeply into his eyes. “It's okay. They would've found out eventually,” you told him, gently cupping his cheek. “Look at you, always so considerate about everyone else except yourself. You're amazing, Daryl Dixon.”

Daryl blushed. “Yer the amazin' one,” he countered, leaning forward to rest his forehead on your stomach. He placed a small kiss to the clothed skin. “Peanut's gon' have one hell of a mama.”

“And one hell of a daddy,” you replied, bringing one of your hands to thread through his hair. “I love you, Daryl.”

“Love ya more, peach,” Daryl murmured, closing his eyes at the comforting feeling. “Love ya too, Peanut.”

The serene moment was soon interrupted. The soft calling from Carol grabbed your attention, and you giggled at the groan Daryl let out.

“Y/n?” she called out. “I've got that ginger tea I promised you.”

“Ginger tea?” Daryl questioned, looking up at you.

“Yeah. I got a bunch of morning sickness without you around for some reason. Seems like Baby Dixon doesn't like when their daddy's not here.”

“Good,” Daryl chuckled, rubbing your stomach affectionately. “Then I guess ya won't mind if I stick 'round.”

“Hm,” you hummed, pretending to think about it before letting out a slight giggle. “I guess I'll keep you around.”

“Tha's real good to hear.”

Before you could respond, you heard the bellowing voice of your brother in law. You groaned in frustration, praying that Carol had gotten out of the line of fire, because your tent was about to become a war ground.

“When the fuck were ya plannin' on tellin' me ya got yer whore pregnant?”

Daryl visibly tensed up at his brother's words, anger flaring up in his eyes, and you knew that another beating was about to commence. “The fuck did ya jus' say, Merle?!”

“Ya heard me, boy.”

God, you hated Merle with a fiery passion, and you doubted that would ever change. But you loved Daryl, and you knew that as long as you had him by your side, you could face anything.

Yeah, your little Peanut was gonna have the best father ever.

[lxkeee]

TWO SIDES OF THE SAME COIN

—CHAPTER TEN

Pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x Seraphim Angel! Fem! Reader

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Genre: ANGST

Warnings: swearing and just angst.

Notes: Yayy! An update after being gone for a month or so lmao XD but anywho, heaven and back would be updated next week, I'm still finishing the chapter up lol.

Second notes: incase if you haven't seen the Azrael fanart my friend did for me, here's the link~! And also, did you know we have a discord server? Here's the link to it:3 come and join, everyone is friendly<3 and if you're already part of the server, come and say hi too:D

Word count: 4.6k

PART ONE I PART NINE | PART ELEVEN | NAVIGATION

Michael lets out a deep exhale once he finally hears the door to [Y/n]'s room clicked as he closes it. He was beyond worried when he heard the news of what happened to her. He blamed himself for being the cause of her passing out, if only he didn't send her down there then she would've been fine.

Michael leans against [Y/n]'s door, running a hand through his soft blond locks, eyes closed as he sighs.

Unaware of the approaching dark haired taller male.

Azrael's eyebrow raised as he noticed the blond man scrunched against [Y/n]'s door, seemingly in deep thought.

Azrael heard what happened and he immediately rushed back to heaven after his work, he was worried sick for the woman.

He sighs, although he didn't show it. His charming and mischievous face remains unchanged as he approaches the door.

“Michael, didn't expect to see you today.” Azrael says, his usual teasing and sultry voice catching Michael's attention.

Michael's head raised up—previously hung low—to look at the source of the voice, only to see Azrael in his deathly glory.

“I heard what happened so I immediately came here to check up on her, especially knowing she went down there and possibly saw him.” Michael explained and Azrael fought back the urge to roll his eyes at the man.

“Still wondering why you chose her to go down there, I was willing to take the load off her shoulders.”

Michael sighs, running a hand through his light blond hair, he doesn't get paid enough for this.

“I know and I suggested it to her right? To do the rock-paper-scissors game again after she lost but she was determined to take the case and I needed to respect that, she was fully prepared to go down there.” Michael explained, exhaustion evident on his voice. He was confused too, worried even. He can only believe God's words, the man sees everything—the past, present, and future.

He can only trust his judgement despite how it pains him to see [Y/n] suffer.

Azrael sighs, stuffing both of his hands in the pocket of his pants. Decided not to further question the man and possibly aggravate both of them.

Fights between Virtues are close to non-existent, but never zero. Arguments can be dangerous for powerful heavenly beings such as themselves.

“I shall not question you further, I'll hand you my reports later this evening so for now, excuse me.” Azrael says with a sigh, walking past Michael as he knocked on [Y/n]'s door before entering.

The door closed with a click. Michael was alone in that hallway after, with a sigh and finally drooping his heavy shoulders, he walked away.

For someone to be God's right hand man, he doesn't know anything. He has no choice but to place his trust in their heavenly father.

Who is currently away to a place they don't know.

‘What a mess,’ Michael thought to himself, the worried expression on his face disappearing as it was replaced with his usual cold and aloof facial expression that he is known for, shoulders straightening up, his footsteps fading as he disappeared from the hallway.

[Y/n] was blankly staring at the ceiling as she was lying down on her bed, seemingly lost in thought.

Azrael sighs, heels clicking as he walks towards her bed, [Y/n] shifted her head to look at the sound of the noise just to see Azrael, sitting on the empty spot of the side of her bed.

She gave him a weak and tired smile.

“Are you alright? I heard what happened,” Azrael muttered, a worried look on his face, “What did I tell you about pushing yourself to the limit?”

“The audacity to say that to me with your nonexistent sleep schedule—” [Y/n] says with a teasing tone but got playfully smacked by a pillow by none other than Azrael.

“I am death, I do not need sleep.”

Azrael says with a small pout, returning back the pillow to where he got it from, crossing his arms and crossing his long and slender legs.

[Y/n] chuckled softly, moving her position to sit on the bed instead of lying down.

“I mean... You looked like death.” She says, Azrael raises his eyebrow at her.

“I don't know why but I feel offended by that statement—”

[Y/n] stares at him, almost a deadpan looking the man up and down, “Come on... You know what I mean.”

“It's the bags underneath my eyes isn't it?” he asked, deadpanning at her, “Michael has it worse, stop attacking me.”

Azrael sighs, sometimes he forgets how difficult she is.

‘Dear father, give me the strength not to end her myself. I'm just kidding, I didn't mean to say that—’

He thought to himself, letting out a long exhale as he saw the teasing grin on the girl's face.

“You're trying to distract me.” he says, eyes narrowing into a deadpan, his lips still in a pout.

“Is it working?” [Y/n] asked with a playful tone, eyebrow raised teasingly at the male.

“Unfortunately.” he sighs, running a hand through his hair, long and slender fingers weaving through the dark black locks in slight frustration.

Whenever he's with her, he sighs a lot. That's something he noticed a long time ago.

The heart palpitations he gets whenever she's near might've not been because of attraction, it's probably because of stress.

She stresses him out.

Okay, just a little bit.

Azrael sighs once more, [Y/n] resisting herself to burst out into laughter, “That's the sixth time you've sighed.” She points out, Azrael deadpans at her.

“Thank you for keeping count, I really appreciate it.” He says, playful sarcasm dripping from his voice.

“You're welcome, death.” She says, it was enough for both of them to burst into chuckles.

Knock, knock, knock.

A knock was heard from her door, catching both of them off guard.

The door opens. A long dark blue haired woman can be seen standing by the door. Her hair tied into a ponytail yet her hair still reaches her waist. A serious look on her face.

Gabriel is here.

‘Oh shit.’ Azrael thought to himself, a shiver running down his back.

The room suddenly felt colder with the woman's presence. Something that often happens whenever Gabriel is in the room.

“Gabriel... Hi—” [Y/n] says nervously, getting cut off.

“Save it Raphael, Azrael please leave.” Gabriel says, voice dripping with icy coldness.

Gabriel, known as God's messenger; she handles reports that are needed to be passed around between realms.

It is natural that the news of Raphael collapsing would immediately reach her.

She can never understand what [Y/n] sees in Lucifer, sure she can see the vision but after what happened and what he did to [Y/n].

She gets the ick.

When the meeting about Sera and Adam's actions were held and the meeting also included about this 'Hazbin Hotel proposed by none other than Lucifer's daughter.

Someone needs to oversee it.

Unfortunately, [Y/n] lost the game that decides that.

The other members thought it was a bad idea but [Y/n] insists, saying that it's fair.

She doesn't want them to baby her. She wants to prove to them that she's okay.

Gabriel was beyond worried, [Y/n] is like a little sister to her despite their ages being so close to each other.

She trusts [Y/n], she can't trust Lucifer.

She couldn't trust the man who abandoned his wife for another woman.

Especially when she learned that Lilith left Lucifer.

It made Gabriel smile when she found out.

Qui totum vult totum perdit, as she always says.

Which translates to, ‘he who wants everything, loses everything.’

Michael usually refutes it with an, ‘Omnia causa fiunt.’

Which translates to, everything happens for a reason.

She doesn't understand Michael sometimes, despite knowing the man for many eons now.

She supposed Michael has some secrets to hide as the heavenly father's right hand man.

She couldn't imagine the burden he's carrying but then again, everyone in the seven virtues has something to hide.

She hums to herself, her mind returning what she was previously thinking.

What was she talking about again?

Oh, Lucifer.

Lucifer got greedy, he lost both of his wives in the process.

What differs him from the first man then?

Nothing.

After all, he is the embodiment of the sin of pride.

He is prideful, arrogant, and greedy.

Not much of a difference between him and Adam, except for how they show their arrogance.

Lucifer became blind when given the opportunity to act upon his God forsaken dreams.

Gabriel grimaced at the thought. The very dreams that doomed humanity.

With that blindness, he lost everything in the process.

As what he deserves.

Gabriel wonders why can't [Y/n] see that a man is willing to go on his knees to worship her?

Azrael, the angel of death.

The virtue of humility. Despite Azrael's slight narcissistic personality, the man knows how to be humble.

Despite the popular belief.

The man knows how to control himself. He knows the difference between being arrogant and being proud of one's achievement.

Unlike Lucifer.

Although, Azrael is borderline to it, she won't speak about it though. Nope, nuh uh.

How funny, Lucifer the sin of pride and Azrael the virtue of humility.

Gabriel almost chuckled at the thought, ‘I supposed there are two sides of the same coin.’

With a sigh, the sounds of her heels clicking against the tiled floors came to a halt.

She stood in the hallway of the Caeles mansion, facing the door that leads to [Y/n]'s room.

She can hear [Y/n]'s muffled behind the door, along with a familiar voice of Azrael laughing. Though, muffled.

Gabriel tilts her body slightly to the side so she can gaze outside through the many windows that are in the hallway.

Dark evening blue skies are what she can see, the sun has set a few hours ago.

She's not sure, the concept of time doesn't matter to an immortal being such as her.

She turns to face the door once more, taking a deep breath as she composes herself.

Stand straight, chest up, shoulders back. Confidence.

She knocks and opens the door.

“Gabriel... Hi—” [Y/n] says nervously, getting cut off.

“Save it Raphael, Azrael please leave.” Gabriel says, voice dripping with icy coldness.

Azrael smiled nervously at [Y/n], patting the girl's head before getting up from where he was sitting—the edge or side of [Y/n]'s bed—his heels clicked on the tiled floor as he walked.

He passes by Gabriel, patting the woman on the shoulder before exiting the room.

The door clicked as it closed. [Y/n] nervously gulped.

Gabriel sighs, finally letting herself walk towards [Y/n]'s direction.

The sound of her heels clicking against the tiled floor is what [Y/n] can only hear, she plays with her thumbs nervously. Her [e/c] eyes avoiding deep dark blue ones.

“We need to talk.” She says sternly as she sits on the edge of the bed, [Y/n] sighs and nodded.

This is going to be fun. [Y/n] thought to herself, sighing mentally.

“What happened?” Gabriel asked, crossing her arms as she looked at the other female.

[Y/n] chuckled nervously, “I sorta got ambushed by evil...?”

Gabriel just stared blankly at her before deadpanning, “How—”

“It just happened okay?” [Y/n] just sighs and Gabriel just inhales and then exhales loudly.

“I don't want to continue asking about that,” Gabriel says flatly, clearly lost for words.

[Y/n] just nodded before looking away to avoid the other woman's eyes.

“Why do you insist on taking this job?” Gabriel asked, her dark blue eyes sternly looking at the [h/c] haired girl.

[Y/n] looked at the other woman in the eye, faltering slightly from the sharpness or Gabriel's dark blue ones.

“Because I just want to, what more reason do you want?” [Y/n] says nervously, avoiding Gabriel's stern and judgemental gaze.

Gabriel sighs then raises an eyebrow at her, “We know you just want to see him. It's been eons, [Y/n]. Why are you still hung up on the guy? You should move on and perhaps find someone new?” she asked her and [Y/n] avoided Gabriel's gaze and turned to look at the window near her bed, watching as the clouds passed by her window.

She sighs, “I can't, I still love him, Gabriel. After all these years my heart still yearns for him, aches, and beats for him.” she whispers softly, voice shaking and vulnerable.

Gabriel sighs, “You always let your emotions get in the way, that's the problem with you [Y/n] you don't think.” she says sternly and [Y/n] remained quiet, she knows Gabriel is right but she can't help it.

“He's just a man, [y/n].”

“A failure of an angel, he brings shame to the seraphims.”

“No, he's not.” [Y/n] refutes back yet her voice lacks resolve, it was barely a whisper.

“So what are you telling me? That this is all worth it because he's the love of your life and this was the man for you” Gabriel asked, a tinge of anger in her voice, her words sending knives to [Y/n]'s heart.

Gabriel is right and she refuses to listen.

“I don't know... He might've been.” [Y/n] answers weakly, a single tear running down her left cheek.

“This is ridiculous.” Gabriel says and [Y/n] just gave a pained laugh, “I know.” she says, she knows that.

“So there's no chance of changing your mind then?” Gabriel asked, a small scoff leaving her lips, her eyebrows slightly furrowed in slight annoyance at the thought of [Y/n] going down in hell once more.

[Y/n] nodded, Gabriel sighed and stood up from where she was sitting, “You're really an idiot, [Y/n].” Gabriel says with a small sigh, a strand of dark blue hair falling on her face. She uses her finger to tuck those strands behind her ear. Her dark blue eyes analyzing the other woman—helpless, weak, an utter fool for lowering herself for a man.

One might say the standards are in hell because of how low it is.

How ironic, amusing.

[Y/n] smiled weakly, she knows. She knows she's stupid for loving a man this much.

Yet, she can't help it. She's a fool. A fool in love with the devil, who was once an angel, who was once her loving husband.

You can never really know you love someone until they've hurt you and still think of them as the best person ever.

“Yeah, I know.” [Y/n] says with a pained smile, a bitter chuckle escaping from her plump pink lips.

Gabriel stood up from where she was sitting, walking to a nearby window that's near the edge of her bed, she stared outside the glass panel, her hands behind her back.

“Does that mean you'll be going down there again?” She asked, not bothering to look at [Y/n].

“Yeah.” [Y/n] nodded, her eyes downcast as she looked defeated. She hated herself for being like this.

“I am not stopping you, you're far too stubborn to listen anyways.” Gabriel says, voice monotone and tired.

“I know.” she says, voice barely above a whisper, a meek and powerless voice. Not wanting to agree with Gabriel but the woman is right and it hurts admitting it.

“Don't say I didn't tell you so.”

Not the first time someone told her that, and it didn't end well for her.

History repeats itself.

And as usual, it's her fault for not listening.

Azrael stood behind the door, ear pressed on the wooden door, eavesdropping.

He is aware that Gabriel can be harsh sometimes and he is also curious.

Can't say what he heard didn't break his heart.

He moves away from the door and leans against the wall, his face expressionless.

He has no reason to cry about it, he knows he had no chance.

A small smile was now on his face and a single tear slid down from his left eye, leaving a wet trail on to his pale cheek.

The door suddenly opens which prompted him to quickly wipe the tear away and composed himself.

He watches as Gabriel walks out of the door and closes the door behind her.

Dark blue eyes meeting dark black ones.

Gabriel's eyes widened ever so slightly when he saw Azrael standing and leaning on the wall near the door, “I thought you left.” she says, eyebrow raised at him.

Azrael chuckled softly, his voice smooth and sweet yet had a tinge of slight bitterness.

“I was curious what you girls were talking about, curiosity kills the cat indeed.” he says with a slight humor in his voice.

Gabriel's eyes softened slightly, “Are you okay?” she asked him, crossing her arms over her chest.

Azrael shakes his head, “No, but I will be eventually.” he says with a small sigh, “Perhaps I should start moving on, besides, I'm starting to get interested in a certain someone.” he murmured, a mischievous grin on his face as remembered a certain archangel who is the acting celestial scribe to the book of life.

“Is it Michael?” she asked and Azrael gave her a disgust and flabbergasted expression, a hand over his chest.

“Excuse me?” he says, dumbfounded, “I may swing both ways but he isn't my type.” he says flatly, Gabriel gave him a side eye.

“Really? I swear both of you have this weird tension. The younglings say they 'ship' you and you two are the perfect representation of old man yaoi whatever that means.”

Azrael almost choked on air, what the fuck? Where did those angels even learn those words—

“Gabriel, what the fuck?”

Gabriel chuckles, nudging the male's shoulder, “I am just kidding.” she says with a teasing tone before humming to herself, “Metatron was it? I barely interact with them nor see them often. They're like Michael but worse, they're usually near father at all times to help him write the book of life so we barely see them in public.” she deadpans before looking at Azrael, “Since you are the angel of death, I supposed you see them often. I can just imagine you annoying them every time you're with them.” she says flatly.

Azrael chuckles, “Indeed, they're rather interesting but for now, I'll resolve my personal issues before acting upon my interest in them.”

“Good. Go to therapy.” Gabriel says, her lips pressed in a thin line as she looked at Azrael with a deadpan expression.

Azrael pouted a little.

“But I no no wanna...” he whined dramatically with a small laugh as he began to follow Gabriel as they walked away from [Y/n]'s room, the click of their heels slowly faded away as they slowly disappeared from the room.

Meanwhile,

“Dad, are you okay?” Charlie asked softly, her father staring outside his bedroom window, a lost look on his face.

Charlie was outside the door during her father and her supposed half brother arguing.

She wanted to come inside the room and try to calm both men down, but when she heard Xavier's voice as he talked to their father.

Charlie could hear eons of rage and utter pain in the boy's voice.

It stopped her from intervening, a voice in her mind kept telling her, ‘Don't. He needs this.’

Even if their father was the receiver of those harsh words.

She might not fully know nor understand the pain and suffering Xavier went but when she looked at the boy's [e/c] eyes, she was able to see utter sadness despite the blank expression on his face.

Lucifer was just blankly staring outside the window, his eyes fixated on the outside world but his mind somewhere, lost and drowning in his own self hate.

He hated it. He was not prepared. He was not prepared to see an almost exact replica of himself to arrive at his daughter's doorstep.

He was not prepared to see an exact replica of him filled with anger and sadness.

Seeing Xavier with his own two eyes, he was able to understand a bit of what the boy went through.

And he was the cause of it.

He regretted the things he has done, especially on how he treated [Y/n].

He was young—no, he was stupid. Just stupid.

Nothing can excuse his actions. He was an idiot and a fool.

[Y/n] was there for him, she was his best friend and he treated her like that.

Like a doll he discarded once he got bored.

He was wrong on how he treated her.

He should've done that, he should've loved her properly, treated her properly.

He should've been Xavier's father, the father that the boy needed and the father that the boy could trust.

Not someone he looks at with so much anger.

Terrifying, Xavier's rage reminded him of his own when he fell from grace.

Though, the reasons are highly different.

He loves [Y/n], he still does.

He realized that he still does in fact love the woman when he was separated from her for many, many years.

He would often call out to her without thinking, then remembering ‘Oh, she's not here.’

Falling from grace was enough to slap some sense into him.

He treated an amazing woman like her like garbage.

He's really an asshole.

Lilith cannot compare to [Y/n], he can't remember how many times [Y/n]'s name slips from his lips whenever he argues with Lilith.

It created distance between them.

Lilith couldn't take it anymore and left him.

He was left alone to wallow in self pity. He was left alone to mourn for the woman he left to suffer in her heartbreak which he caused.

He mourned his first love, he mourned his first son.

Which he doesn't deserve to do, considering that it should be the opposite.

To Xavier, he's a dead man. To [Y/n], he's a nobody.

Charlie watches her father with an unreadable expression on her, her hand outstretched as if to reach him but it hesitated midway. Shaking and unsure.

“Dad...?” she softly calls out again, her voice echoing despite the ringing in Lucifer's ears. His daughter's voice sounds like it's echoing in the four corners of his hotel room.

Suffocating. It felt like he was trapped in his own mind. His mistakes echoed like a siren's call to him. Teasing him.

He felt cold. He felt numb.

Snap. Everything stopped. The ringing stopped.

Though, his heart is beating erratically against his ribcage, like a monster threatening to get out of its prison.

He felt utterly numb.

His eyes are scanning his room, gentle streaks of light filtering through the glass panel of his windows giving his room a reddish like hue.

With a deep shaky sigh, he turned around and faced his daughter, his hand gripping his cane clenched ever so slightly.

“Charlie, dear... I would like to be alone at the moment.” he says, hesitantly. Voice quivering in each syllable, each word filled with the regrets of his past and present. Weighing him down.

Charlie's eyes widened ever so slightly before giving her father a small reassuring smile, “Oh! Of course... Excuse me...” she says giving him a small bow before turning around on her heels to walk towards the door. She paused, took a deep breath before looking at her father through her shoulder.

“If you need me, I'll be somewhere around the hotel. I'll always be here for you, dad.” she says with a small smile before turning around once more, twisting the doorknob open and walks out of the door.

The door clicked to a close when she was gone.

Lucifer's tensed shoulders loosened as it drops, a small frown on his beautiful face.

A single tear slips past his eye, the droplet sliding down on his left cheek, leaving a trail on his soft and pale yet rosy cheek.

“I know.” he whispered before a choked sob escaped his lips.

He can feel the stinging sensation around his eyes, vision blurring as tears mess up his sense of sight.

He can feel his legs buckling as if it struggled to carry the weight of his mistakes that he's carrying on his shoulders.

It gave out as he was now on the floor, small sobs could be heard from, his sobs bouncing on the walls of his room, mocking him.

“Why am I crying? I don't deserve to cry. I don't deserve to cry after what I had done.” he says choking on his words, shoulders shaking, trembling.

He hugged himself in an attempt to comfort himself, yet he was met with painful memories of when [Y/n] used to hold him when he was crying.

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry...” he repeated to himself, rocking back and forth on where he was kneeling like a sinner.

Begging for her forgiveness, yet his repentance can't be heard from her.

‘It's all my fault, it's all my fault.’ thinking these words were like a stab to the heart because it is true.

With his last bit of energy, he lies down on the cold tiled floor. His white suit a pop of color to the redness all around him, his cheeks pressed against the tiles as tears continue to slide down on his pale skin and on to the floor.

“Over, I can't believe it's over, I can't believe the love I lived, to show some other day...” he quietly sang, his voice raspy from all the crying he shifts to let his body face the ceiling, his eyes staring blankly at the chandeliers.

“Listen, I hope that you can hear me...” he sang, propping his elbows on the floor to lift himself up into a kneeling position, his hands trembling, voice cracking with emotions, “As I kneel down and pray with the love I meant to say...” he sang softly, his voice beautiful yet filled with unexplainable regret.

“Shadows, you took away the shadows...”

“Before my life was black and white, though tonight the room's gone gray.”

She was the light of his life, his life was monotone before she came, she was a splash of color to the black and white of his so-called life.

“Golden, all the love you gave was golden,” he sang softly, [Y/n]'s bright smiling face flashes into his mind, a smile that brought so much warmth and happiness into his life, “Golden, I would gladly pay, to show the love I meant to say...”

“Oh, music you made me hear, such music,”

“Silly Lucifer, don't take our elder's words to heart! Their ancient beliefs can't possibly understand your amazing ideas!” [Y/n]'s words echo in his mind, for a brief moment, he could see [Y/n] smiling and giggling at him, her long white dress fluttering against the wind.

His eyes widened when the figment of his imagination of [Y/n] slowly fades away, his eyes widened in fear as he attempted to lift himself up from the floor, his hands outstretched in hopes of reaching her.

Only to grip on to nothing.

“Without you here to guide me, I feel as though I'll fly away...” he muttered, his voice continuing to break as tears continued to stream down his cheeks.

Droplets of his tears falling into the floor, his reflection mirrored into the small puddle of his pain.

“S-sorry,” his voice breaks even more, a simple word that is too late to say, too heavy to speak with his own lips. The very words he wants to say to her.

“Sorry, that's the word I want to sing to you,”

He took a deep shaky breath, his wine red like eyes tired and dull, eyes puffy and red after all the crying he had done, “The other word is stay, to hear the love I meant to say.” he softly sang, small hiccups can be heard.

He's really an idiot.

© LXKE 2024; please do not steal, translate, or repost my works as your own.

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[ecoterrorist-katara]

Zutara, romance novels, and the female gaze

Okay so I’ve been thinking about the female gaze a LOT so I checked out a subreddit about romance novels, despite never having read one. I came across this meme (which was initially a Tumblr post and then got posted to Instagram and then to Reddit and I’m now bringing back to Tumblr — Internet telephone, pls never change):

And…what is The Southern Raiders, if not a platonic grovel? Katara’s pain is central to the episode. It’s central to Zuko. Zuko asks Katara what he can do to make up for his betrayal; she demands the impossible. He reads between the lines, cockblocks her brother to get the necessary information, and then waits outside her door overnight (which he also did for Iroh, the one person we know for sure he loves). He basically makes himself a receptacle for her rage, and he holds space for her by coming with her on her revenge quest and carrying their bags and not saying a damn thing about what she should and should not do beyond like…asking her to rest. And obviously the grovel works! She forgives him and then they’re thick as thieves, bantering and fighting and saving each other’s lives, etc.

On a different note, I’ve been told that enemies to lovers is one of the biggest tropes in romance novels, similar to YA lit and fanfic. Here’s something else I found in the romance novel discourse:

And…yeah. In TSR, Katara really does show Zuko her worst self, because she doesn’t feel the need to perform for him. She doesn’t feel the need to perform moral perfection OR cold blooded vengeance. She bloodbends in front of him and he just goes with it. She doesn’t kill Yon Rha and he just goes with it. He doesn’t treat her any differently afterwards. Maybe they talk about it off screen, but I kind of like the idea that they don’t, because Katara doesn’t need to explain anything. And it’s so interesting, because some people in the ATLA fandom have a totally different read on TSR. They think Zuko was encouraging Katara to get revenge (by what, keeping his mouth shut?), and that Aang is the one who acts as her moral compass. I believe that either Bryan or Mike said in the DVD commentary that Aang is the angel on her shoulder the entire time. And this interpretation does make sense if you see it from the male gaze, where Katara as an object of affection is acting in an angry, irrational, threatening way. But if you see it from the female gaze, you recognize that actually it’s probably the most emotionally taxing experience Katara has to go through, and she doesn’t owe it to be nice or perfect to anybody. Katara’s formative trauma literally comes to a head, and she has to make a decision — no, a discovery — about who she is in relation to the tragedy that defines her life and even her identity (as a waterbender, as a parentified child who becomes the mom friend, as a genocide victim), and she’s accompanied by someone who trusts her judgement and validates her feelings.

I’m not saying TSR is explicitly romantically coded, but when it conforms so well to romance novel tropes…is it any wonder that so many people thought “yes this is her man?” And then he takes lightning in the heart for her and reaches for her when he’s literally dying, I will never be normal about that either

[queers-gambit]

Simple, Easy, Effortless

prompt: ( requested ) from across the dance floor, Felix locks eyes with you and is instantly smitten. is it love at first sight? lust? he's determined to know.

pairing: Felix Catton x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Saltburn

word count: 5.1k+

note: this man is a SLUT but i'm sluttier in theory

warnings: the ducklips in the gif, obviously cursing, sexual tension, "love at first sight", author def uses her own university roommate experiences for inspiration, Lord's name in vain, mention of illicit drug use. REMEMBER: don't run from cops unless with Felix - or absolutely necessary - or you KNOW you can get away.

song featured in the movie and request: Murder on the Dance Floor

Humid. Sweaty. Pulsing. Overpopulated.

All good adjectives to describe your first university party with your roommate, Polly Schwartz. She had already been to loads of parties already, probably more than her actual classes, but being as you were a "scholarship kid", you took your education much more seriously than she did. Perhaps being why you spent your weekends studying, and she spent hers getting drunk, sleeping with randoms constantly, and partying nearly every weekend. You didn't think there was anything wrong with her habts, in fact, you encouraged her to go out most of the time; but after midterms, you were burnt the fuck out and Polly recommended you have a night out with her.

When she needed it, you helped Polly study, and now, it was time for her to return the favor in her own area of expertise. Tonight's party was hosted in an off-campus flat, making you worry about the authorities being phoned, but Polly assured you that nearly the entire complex was composed of Oxford students and there was barely a threat of this party being busted.

The moment you stepped into the humid, sweaty, pulsing, overpopulated flat, a drink was shoved into your hand by a barely-standing boy with a nose ring. He was decently attractive, but the belch he let out made you grimace and follow after Polly. He might've yelled something after your retreating form, but who could tell with the noise level?

"You need to loosen up, bitch! Jesus Christ, you're as stiff as a board, and trust me! No guy is gonna wanna approach you!" She laughed, missing your protest that you didn't care for male attention. "Wait," she gasped, "where'd you get that?"

"Uh, that lad over there," you pointed, blinking in mild shock when she snatched the drink from your hand and poured it out in a dying houseplant.

"I thought you were the brains of us," she scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Never accept a drink you didn't see being made! That's how you get drugged!"

"I'm not sure how this is supposed to work, Polly, for fuck's sake," you whined, hugging your arms as you gazed around nervously. "Maybe I should just go back to the dorms, this isn't really my scene - "

"Nope, you're staying," she shook her head, leading you by the hand to the kitchen. "Here - hang on, I'll get us something. Farleigh, my love!"

The handsome lad with a head full of fluffed coils turned with a small glare, but softened when he noted Polly's appearance. "There you are! I was wondering when you'd get here, darling!"

She giggled obnoxiously and you understood, this must've been the lad she was seeing on-and-off for the whole semester. "Well, I finally got this one out of the library, so we're a little late for a reason," she laughed, pointing her thumb back at you and making the boy eye you with judgement.

You gave a small wave, and he instantly offered his hand, introducing himself as, "Farleigh." After giving him your name, Polly was insisting you both needed a drink and Farleigh was nodding in agreement. "Here, drinks are this way - but it's self serve."

"Nobody made juice?" Polly pouted, the three of you approaching a decent-sized table that was full of bottles of liquor and mixers.

"Not this time," Farleigh laughed, and you let Polly make your drink because you were busy trying not to get run over by the other party goers.

"Christ Almighty, surely the floors will cave in with this many people?" You frowned when another drunk bumped into you and sloppily apologized.

"Only if we're lucky," Farleigh laughed. He directed at Polly, "Oh, remember Stephen's party? Donovan put a hole through the wall!"

Polly laughed as she handed you a fresh drink and all but ignored you in favor of this boy that was tapping a bit of suspicious powder onto his hand. Your eyes rolled and you turned away from them, slowly stalking around the room and taking in the scene - hating the way your ears felt as if they were bleeding from the terrible music selection.

But after you skulled your drink, you ran into a few classmates from your anthropology class. "Here, you can have this," Chelsea took the drink from Cara, "she's had way too much already."

You figured this exchange was safe enough after seeing Cara taking several gulps; not even noticing her hands were empty because she was dancing to the floor-shaking music in a daze.

"Who're you here with?" Pablo asked, bobbing his head to the beat. "We all came as a group, don't tell me you're alone!?"

"No, no, love, I came with Polly," you shrugged, feeling looser than when you first got there.

"Ew," Pablo rolled his eyes, the other girl snickering.

"Wait, what? What am I missing?" You asked with a small whine.

"Polly Harrington?" He asked, watching you nod. "Yeah, no, your li'l friend's the one who sucked off Professor Lorde."

"What?" You gaped.

"Why do you think she's here?" He gossiped. "Surely, not for her grades."

You just shook your head, "Maybe we shouldn't throw stones, it's rude to speak about others behind their backs."

"Doll face, it's not like it's a secret," Pablo laughed, nodding at your drink. "C'mon, bottoms up, buttercup, we've gotta get you dancing. You look way too cute to be a wallflower all night, c'mon, let's go! Chug! Chug!"

You gingerly took a gulp, but Pablo and Chelsea were encouraging you to just finish it off. When you did, they cheered with pride, laughing when you began giggling, "That's the worst taste! God!"

"Oh, sweetie, we don't drink for the taste, we drink to make us better dancers!" Chelsea beamed. "Want mine?"

"No, no - "

"Down it!"

You shrugged, inhibitions already significantly lowered, and with ease, finished your third drink. "I should get us more!" Pablo laughed.

"You do that, we're gonna dance!" Your friend waved him off, snatching your hand, and leading you to the dance floor. It was hard to distinguish where it was since there was wall-to-wall college kids stuffing the place, but you weaseled your way between people and let the alcohol take control. "Hey! By the way!" Chelsea spoke in your ear, "You look really hot! I adore this skirt!"

"Me? Babe, look at you! Can I borrow this dress?"

"Only if I can borrow those shoes!" She squealed.

You giggled and took her hand, spinning her around before joining together again. When Pablo rejoined, he handed you both a drink before jumping in front of you, throwing his reasonably fat arse back into your crotch - which forced you back onto your girlfriend in a dancing train. You three cheered through your laughter, smacking the lad's bottom playfully as he put his heart and soul into his dance; hands on his knees and hips bouncing.

However, Pablo only pulled away when Farleigh reappeared and stole him away to a darkening corner; only briefly making you wonder where he had left your roommate. You looked at Chelsea, who giggled in your ear, "They've been fucking recently. Pablo's whipped."

"I don't blame him," you mused. Cara had stumbled closer to you two, throwing her skinny arms around your neck and starting on a drunken ramble about how much she loved you - despite only sharing the one class together and knowing each other from a distance. Still, you appreciated the sentiment and let yourself feel loved; taking a sip from the plastic solo cup in hand and swinging your hips to the pulsing beat. In that moment, you just happened to look up, gasping, "There's a stripper pole!?"

"Go get on it!" Cara laughed. "Oh, wait, Felix is on it - oh, shit, Felix!"

"Who?" You asked.

"Felix, you know!? Felix Catton? Felix fucking Catton!" Cara blinked, then offered you an incredulous look and turned to Chelsea. "She doesn't know Felix?"

She waved Cara off, instead explaining to you, "He's that tall lad, in the white button up."

When you looked, Felix happened to glance over and your eyes connected. You were absolutely done for.

"Oh, yeah, she knows Felix now!" Cara giggled loudly. "Go! Go talk to him!" She encouraged, making your eyes bug widely.

"What?" You looked at the two girls, shaking your head, "No, no, I don't even know him!"

"Babes, 75% of the people you see paired up right now didn't know each other before this party!" Cara rolled her pretty eyes. "But hey, if you don't, India definitely will. Girl basically lives on his cock, it's decently pathetic - but just look at him! God took his time with Felix!"

"Oh, are they dating?" You asked innocently, looking back over to the tall boy in a white, linen button up. He grinned at you from the short distance.

"No," Chelsea laughed, seeing the way you two just stared and smiled softly. "Here, finish your drink and let the liquid courage do its job!"

"It's literally my first party," you laughed, "I'm not interested - "

"Oh, fuck off! Everyone's interested in Felix," Cara interrupted. "And I do mean, literally everyone."

"I can understand why," you mused, taking a long pull from your cup. "Cara, that lad, there, has been staring at you," you distracted, her swinging around instantly and thanking you before dancing over to the boy leaning on the wall.

He smirked when she reached him.

"She's a social butterfly," her roommate, Chelsea, giggled. "Do you need a refill?"

"Huh? Oh, no, I'm okay!"

"Okay, don't go too far - I'll be right back!" She grinned, knowing something you didn't, and disappearing into the thick crowd.

You swallowed another drink before you felt a hand on your waist, making you jump in surprise and turn. Before you towered the object of seemingly everyone's desires: Felix Catton.

"Haven't seen you around before," he spoke in your ear over the music.

"Oh, first timer," you nodded back.

"Doin' all right? Yeah? Havin' fun?"

You agreed, "Yeah, 'course. This your party?"

"No, no, uh," he glanced around the heads of students, "honestly, I'm not really sure who's flat this is."

"Oh, well, I guess as long as it's not damaged, it doesn't matter much, right?"

"Exactly," he smirked, offering his cup to yours. You clinked them together, both taking the obligatory sip, and swaying unconsciously to the music. "Who're you here with?"

"Polly - "

"Oh, Christ, yeah! Yeah, you're, uh, you're her roommate?"

You nodded, "You know her?"

"Who doesn't?"

"Oh," you frowned in discomfort, brows pinched.

"No, no, I just meant, she's popular, innit she? Not that - that she's sucked me off or anything like that!"

You laughed, "Wasn't thinking that, but good to know."

His cheeks flared a bright red, "That was a bit brash of me, wasn't it? Sorry, love, I should know better than to use such vocabulary with a pretty lady."

Your eyes rolled, "This 'pretty lady' has both heard and used much worse vernacular."

Felix slowly grinned, "You want a smoke?"

"Dying for one actually, yeah."

"This way, c'mon," he offered his free hand, and without thinking, you accepted and let the tall, slender lad lead you through the crowd. All of a sudden, you felt as if every eye was on you - watching, stalking, clocking you like predator does prey. You were directed to a balcony, a few lingering smokers standing around.

The moment the glass door slid shut, the music was semi-silenced and you breathed in slight relief. "Christ, 's always this loud?" You asked, leaning on the railing beside your companion while rubbing an ear to relieve the ringing sensation.

"Usually, yeah," he smirked, handing you a cigarette before placing one between his lips.

"You looked real natural on that pole," you teased, leaning in when he flicked a lighter to life.

"Oh, God," he laughed, watching you inhale. "Saw that, did you?"

You hummed, holding the smoke in your lungs, "Kinda hard t'miss. You were really into it."

He shrugged, lighting the end of his own nicotine filled stick. Upon exhale, he eased, "Was a really good song, wasn't it? Easy t'dance to, you know?"

"Hm," you nodded, "actually, I wouldn't know - I don't know half these songs."

"You livin' under a rock, love?"

"No, just with my nose in a book."

"Smart girl, are yah?"

"I would hope so, considering my scholarship."

"Even more impressive," he grinned. "You know Oliver, then? Oliver Quick? He's on scholarship, too."

"No, not quite, us scholarship kids don't all know one another," you shot back with a smirk.

"Fair enough," he agreed, eyeing you up and down. "So, why tonight?"

"Hmm?"

"Why come tonight?"

"Polly thought I could use a little stress relief," you answered, taking a long puff. "Not exactly the way I saw my night going, though."

"How's that?"

"Look at you!" You laughed. "Of all the ladies here, you danced your way over to me? Now you're having a conversation instead of working that pole?"

"I like to think that I just had to introduce myself to the prettiest lass in the whole joint," he flirted.

"And yet," you inhaled, "you've haven't made introductions."

"No? I haven't?" He smirked, watching your head shake. "Apologies, love. I'm Felix, uh, Felix Catton," he offered his hand, and when you shook it, you told him your own full name. "Now that that's outta the way," he took his own inhale, "how's about we go dance?"

"Oh, I might need to finish this drink before all that," you lifted your cup to your lips.

"Nah, I saw you earlier," he chuckled, stomping his cigarette out under his boot. "C'mon, love, not letting you get outta here without at least one dance."

"Surely, India would be a better option?"

He scoffed, "Oh? And how would you know that?"

"Chelsea and Cara might've made mention earlier. I wouldn't want to steal someone's man - girl code, and that shit."

For whatever reason, this made Felix snicker, "No, no, you've got it wrong, India and I are just friends."

"That's what guys say when they're sleeping with their 'friend'."

"Either way, she's not my girl," he smirked. "C'mon, love, one dance. If you're not convinced after that, I'll let yah go - no fuss."

"Oh, well, that doesn't sound remotely creepy," you laughed, dropping your own cigarette and stomping it out. "All right, yeah, one dance."

"Just one."

"A single dance."

"No more, but no less," he smirked, lacing your fingers together when you laid your hand in his. "Deal?"

You nodded, feeling absolutely giddy by his attention. When you reentered the party, it was almost as if it had grown in population, and suddenly, you wanted to be back on the balcony just to breathe. But Felix had a secure hold on you, and after downing the last of your drink, you set the cup on a random end table you passed before taking position on the "dance floor".

What you absolutely did not anticipate was that Felix wasn't the best dancer, but holy shit, did he not care; letting go and having fun. You let the alcohol in your system propel you, and soon, one dance turned into two, and two turned to three. It was like nobody else was there, it was just you and Felix; dancing like fools, letting your hair down, and you actually found yourself enjoying the music that vibrated the entire flat.

The song that played wasn't one you recognized, but the lyrics felt strangely appropriate for your current situation. Though there was no groove to be killed, no moves to steal, and no murdering on this dance floor, there was a whole lotta tension that fueled your movements together.

"Oh, oh, here we go, c'mon!" He laughed, tugging your hand after him to approach the stripper pole the flat's owner had installed. "Go on, love, show me how it's done!"

"Oh, fuck no!" You barked in laughter. "You're the master, let me take notes."

"I'll warn you, once you see my moves up close," he planted a hand on the pole and swung around it once, "you won't be able to resist!"

You waved him on, eyes widening when he danced around the pole as if nobody was watching, but in reality, he had an entire audience. Not that you noticed, you were solely focused on the boy putting on a show for you; both wearing goofy grins. When he got REALLY into it, you had to admit your stomach knotted in attraction when his lips pushed into a slutty pout. Never had you wanted to kiss someone so bad in your life before, but it increased ten fold when he swung around and grabbed onto your waist; effortlessly pushing you onto the pole as he released it.

"C'mon, then!" He beamed, watching you stand for a single awkward moment before figuring, why the hell not?

So, you swung yourself around before shocking Felix to his bloody core by holding the pole and grinding down it - giving a teasing peek at your panties when your legs spread slightly to accommodate your dance moves. His jaw slackened, eyes raked up and down your form, lips pulling in a smirk the longer he watched you go. Your hair flung around, hips gyrated in movements that made his pants tighten, and when he couldn't stand it any longer, he caught you in another swing.

Hips against yours, arms around one another, he danced you back onto the crowded floor; a hand raising to caress the side of your face as if he was mesmerized by all you were, all you are.

It was so simple to lose yourself in his dancing, in his scent, in his aurora. It was so easy to move against him. It was so simple to exist with Felix fucking Catton.

He was intoxicating, making you feel more drunk on him than the alcohol you had ingested. And while the moment felt serious, once you were surrounded by peers again, you melted into a sense of silliness. Any care you had, any worry - it all melted away, it evaporated, got swept under the rug because Felix commandeered your entire attention.

From the side of the room, Cara and Chelsea squealed in excitement for you, high-fiving when they noted India's jealous glare. Farleigh and Pablo even snickered, wondering how long it would take for Felix's charm to get you into bed; a bet being placed between the two lads before taking another bump of cocaine that distracted them for the rest of the time.

On the dance floor, your laughter was genuine and a little loud when he swung you around before dying in your throat when he pulled you in close. Again, the party melted away and it was just you and Felix; his hands on your hips, head bowed to corral you close, his warm brown eyes intense as they flitted between your eyes and lips.

You knew what he wanted, but didn't want to give into temptation yet. Keeping an air of mystery, you smiled coyly and pushed back slightly - but he was yanking you right back in.

When a friend of his came around with a tray full of shots, his arm coiled around your waist tightly to keep you anchored as he accepted the Jell-O concoction. You still buzzed from your earlier drinks and nicotine, bobbing and humming to the song playing, Felix instantly moving with you.

And just like you worried earlier, from deep in the party, someone shouted, "IT'S THE FUZZ! GO! SCATTER!"

"Oh, shit! Oh, my God!" You gasped in worry, the music cutting and students rushing for the exit.

"C'mere, c'mere, 's all right," Felix rushed, pulling you back into a wall to let the stampede rush around you as he planted you in front of him. Your hands held his waist, watching those around you run away, and when you looked up, Felix was already staring at you.

The moment your eyes met, you both snickered in amusement before bursting into full-on laughter. "Oh, Jesus Christ!" You mused, leaning your forehead to his pectoral. "I knew it - of course my first party is busted, hey?"

"Just makes it all the more memorable, yeah?"

"You were doing a pretty good job on your own with that," you met his gaze again - feeling coy and playful.

"Yeah?" He grinned. "Well, I try."

"I think you succeed."

He opened his mouth to respond, caressing your cheek, but someone else shouted, "GO, GO, GO! Felix, c'mon, mate! The fuck you doin'! We gotta go! I can't get another citation!"

"Let's go," he told you instead, lacing your hands together again and joining the last of the stream filtering out of the flat.

"Where're we - "

"This way, trust me," he dodged down a separate hallway, a few others following his lead. Down a flight of stairs, turning down another hall, and you two were bursting into the chilly night air.

The lights of the copper's cars flashed from around the building and you realized you were at the back. Others were rushing from the door, scattering into the night, but Felix just leaned on the brownstone and waited, checking your surroundings.

"What now?" You worried, panting lightly from the rush of adrenaline.

"We go that way," he nodded, "walk slow and calm, we don't know shit about a party. We're just walking back to campus, yeah?"

"Oh, like that'll work," you snickered, but again, laced your hands together. "On your lead, my lord," you joked.

"That make you my lady?"

"Hm, nah," you refused with a smirk, "I don't do well with sharing and you seem to be well liked, aren't yah?"

He hummed, letting go of your hand to toss his arm around your neck, still subtly checking around you for any police officers. Your arm latched around his waist, reaching up to hold the hand dangling from your shoulders. "I might be well liked, but for you, I'd drop everyone," he flirted easily - as if second nature, as if he didn't even have to think about the words that oozed out of that slick mouth.

"Oh, how flattering."

"I would hope so," he breathed, leading you out of the back garden. "Swear, love, never been so caught-up before. Just saw you and had t'come talk - had t'know who you are. I mean, just look at'cha, sweetheart, can you really blame me?"

"That line usually works, does it?"

"More often than not," he laughed, you joining in as you slipped from the back gate.

"HEY! YOU TWO! STOP RIGHT THERE! STOP!"

"Oh, shit," Felix gasped, snatching your hand in an instant as two officers started to clumsily rush towards you two.

"What do we - "

"Run!" He laughed, yanking you after him.

"Felix!"

"HEY! STOP! STOP! COME BACK HERE!"

You couldn't stop laughing as you both sprinted down the street and around an alley, taking three more turns before coming to a panting halt; pausing to listen.

"Hear 'em?" He whispered, keeping you on the inside so he could peer down the alley you had escaped down.

"No...?"

"I don't either," he nodded, glancing down at you and chuckling. "You're fast, you on the track team?"

"Oh, please, you should be fast when running from the law, shouldn't you?"

"Knew I liked you," he barked in humor. "C'mon, love, 's a nice night, innit it?"

"Nice night for what? Breaking laws?"

"Well, yeah, but I meant for a walk," he mused, walking backwards, snagging both your hands in his to pull you off the wall you were hiding behind. "It's a bit of a hike back to campus, might as well make the most of it," he smiled, turning to keep pace beside you with his arm around your waist. "Not every night I get t'walk in the moonlight with a beautiful lass."

You pulled his arm up to your shoulders again, holding his waist comfortably, and being as you weren't familiar with the area, trusting him to lead you back. After a beat, you admitted in a sigh, "You know, tonight wasn't what I expected and yet, it's exactly what I thought."

"Was it better or worse than you could've planned?"

You laughed, "Well, running from the cops wasn't on my bingo card."

"How's it feel? 'T be such a bad girl?"

"You tell me."

Felix laughed, "Ah, love, not my first time, but it's just as exhilarating."

"Jesus," you rolled your eyes in humor. "Not exactly what I wanted to hear, you having other run-ins with officers."

"Oh, you like it!"

"I might," you agreed, stepping onto the sidewalk of a main street. "Oh, shit, oh, my God!" You halted, looking nervous and frantic. "I left Polly! Fuck!"

"Nah, nah, nah, don't worry, love, I saw her leave earlier while we were dancing."

"Huh?"

"Yeah, she left with Johnny."

"Who the fuck is Johnny?"

He grinned, "Yeah, that's it, you're hanging with me from now on. We'll get you aquatinted with your classmates, yeah?"

"Maybe I have no want nor need to know people," you spoke softly. "I'm here for an education, not t’socialize."

"Doesn't hurt though, does it?"

"After tonight? I don't know if you can make that case."

"You seriously telling me you didn't have fun? Oh, sweetheart, that hurts. I'm hurt, honestly," he pouted dramatically, free hand to his heart; glittering gold ring winking at you under the street lamps.

"What's that?" You asked, alcohol making you easily distracted. He glanced at his hand and held it out for you, showing his ring. "What's the design? It's real pretty - didn't think I'd see it on a guy."

He chuckled, "Ah, it's a signet - my family's signet, actually."

"Jesus, I knew it," you groaned. "No way you were just a regular somebody! A bloody signet? What? Related t'the Queen, are yah?"

"No, not exactly," he snorted. "But my father is knighted..."

"Holy shit," you blinked. "What's that like?"

He looked down at you, brows slowly furrowing, "You really wanna know? Most people just, I don't know, kinda assume I'm rich and that's all there is to my life."

You felt a single pang of empathy, smiling up at him, "I really wanna know, Felix. C'mon, what's your family do? Both parents still alive? They still married? Where's home?"

For the entire walk back to campus, you and Felix talked as if old friends. Sure, you were getting to know each other, but it felt as if you'd known one another for ages by how easy it was to talk to him. And he seemed enthralled by your questions; wondering about his life, not just the pretty face he bore. Not just the money to his name. You seemed genuinely curious as to who "Felix Catton" was... Something he hadn't known his entire time at Oxford.

When you got back to your dorm, you felt sad by the idea of parting ways, something that genuinely shocked you. Yet the obscene sounds from behind the thin, wooden door alerted you to Polly and her guest, making you pause and sigh. "Well, that's awkward," you mused, leaning on the opposite wall. "Uh, thanks for walking me back, but I'm just gonna crash in the common room."

"Oh, bollocks to that, love," he shook his head, offering his hand again. "C'mon, you can crash with me."

"Hm, sounds sketchy."

"Oh? How's that?" He laughed.

"We just met!"

"C'mon, sweetheart, it's just a bed t'sleep in. Promise, nothing's gonna happen - even if you beg."

"Oh, what a gentleman," you laughed, much to his amusement. "All right, yeah... If I can borrow something to sleep in? Not entirely comfortable sleepin' in this..."

"I've gotcha," he nodded, leading you from your dorm and to his. Which, to your surprise, was the housing beside your own.

"Oh, Felix, NO!" You gaped when you entered his room. "Oh, darling, no, no, no, what's this?"

"It's not that bad - "

"No, I'm talking that!" You laughed, not phased by the mess, pointing to the Manchester football flag. "Don't tell me - "

"Nah, hey, don't do that, 's my father's team," he chuckled. "It reminds me to watch, gives us something t'talk about..."

You cooed, "Well, that's actually sweet of you. I guess I can let it slide."

"Oh, you're a saint."

He tossed you clean boxers and a tee shirt, letting you change in the adjoining restroom as he quickly changed in the bedroom. When you joined him again, you both got comfortable on the bed, but sleep evaded you... Leading into a long night of chatter, jokes, and establishing friendship that would eventually turn romantic.

But for that night, it was simple. It was easy. It was effortless.

You both crashed around 4 am, and when you woke the following afternoon, your head was on his chest, his arm tight around your waist, and there wasn't a single concern in your heart or head.

"Jesus, fuck," Felix groaned when he woke, tightening his arm to constrict you against his warm body on the teeny, tiny dorm bed. "Ah, Christ, remind me not t'drink again, yeah, love?"

"You and me, both," you grumbled, nestling closer.

He sighed, "Yah hungry?"

"A bit."

"Wanna go t'yours, change, get something t'eat?" He offered, rubbing your waist. "C'mon, my treat."

You lifted your head to check his bedside clock, grunting as you laid back down, "It's past noon."

"So? Stomachs don't open or close."

You let your chin prop on his chest, smiling, "Food sounds nice."

He nodded, eyes once more dancing between yours. "Know, you look real good in my clothes. Might have t'let you keep it."

"Much appreciated, pretty boy. C'mon, food helps with the hangover, doesn't it?"

"Very much," he nodded, reaching for his cigarettes. "Hmm?" He offered.

"Mhm," you accepted, both settling on your backs, but he pulled you in close to light your stick. "You always like this?" You whispered, smoking swirling in the air above you.

"What's that?"

"Charismatic?"

"Ah, if I could turn it off... Well, bein' honest, I wouldn't."

"Oh, shove off," you both laughed lightly at your words, looking up at him. He seemed ethereal in the morning light, and then - it happened. He set his cigarette to an ashtray to free his hand, caressing your cheek and making you go still.

"Would you think less of me if I kiss you?"

"I'd think less if you didn't, I think..."

He smirked and curled over, lips finding yours in a searing, breathtaking kiss that tasted like the previous night's alcohol. Yet he still tasted so pleasantly spicy and unique, making you inhale sharply and hold onto the back of his neck to keep him close. He hummed lightly, tongues swirling like the smoke that still hung in the air, and when he pulled back, again, you both just laughed lightly before he was swooping in for another kiss.

It was like I said... Simple, easy, effortless.

requesting rules and masterlist

Saltburn masterlist

[angstysebfan]

Not Good Enough

Pairing: Bucky x Plus Size Female Reader Summary: Reader is dating Bucky. Bucky thinks he won the jackpot with the reader, but the reader thinks he can get anyone he wants. A bet then goes a little too far, leaving the reader questioning everything about their relationship.

A/N: Fixed this piece up and changed the story line. Both reader and Bucky are wrong in this one, but I hope you like it anyways. I tend to write toxic relationships because of what I've been through. If you don't like that you can pass by without leaving rude comments. This is my version of therapy. Thanks!

--

You weren’t like the other agents on the team. Where most women in S.H.I.E.L.D or the Avengers are tall, skinny and beautiful. You were short, overweight, and in your opinion “ehh” in the looks department. Though you looked overweight, you were strong as all hell. You always felt like you didn’t belong, but the team always told you did. Especially Bucky.

When Bucky Barnes admitted his feelings for you, you had a hard time believing him. He's proven that his feelings are real, but one thing you think he's lying about is how lucky he says he is that you finally said yes to being his. It's a conversation that comes up several times and you keep saying the same thing.

"Buck, one sexy smirk toward a woman and they would be putty in your hands. I'm the one who should thank whoever brought you to me cause I still don't get what you see."

"Baby, you're the one who could have any man she wants, and you chose me. Trust me, no other woman would ever want me."

You would just roll your eyes and change the subject as it was actually painful to talk about. But one week you had enough and made a bet. A new agent was coming, and you wanted to prove Bucky wrong. You gave him permission, against your better judgement, to flirt. If she turned him down you would admit defeat, but if you won, he owed you a weekend away together.

Then the new female agent, Stacy, joined, and she was gorgeous! Beautiful light brown hair that looked so soft to the touch, blue eyes that drew you in, and a body you would die for. When you and Bucky walked in hand-in-hand to meet her, you couldn’t help but notice Bucky’s reaction to her. You shook it off because you couldn’t deny her beauty either.

"Remember the deal babe," you said quietly, suddenly regretting your choice. He nodded silently and kissed your forehead.

You didn't know this, but he was also regretting this bet. When Stacy was introduced to the team, you automatically noticed her eyes lingered on Bucky a lot longer than anyone else.

Steve brought her down the line to meet everyone one by one, and when she walked up to you, you extended your hand, “Nice to meet you Stacy. Looking forward to working with you.”

She looked at your hand for a moment and then said to Steve, “I thought I was meeting agents.”

Steve’s eyebrows shot up and nodded, “Yes, Y/N here is one of our best. She is one mission away from becoming a full fledge Avenger.”

You smiled at him as she looked back at you, an unreadable expression on her face. “Huh, well, we'll see about that.”

She walked past you to Bucky without shaking your hand. You were honestly shocked by her rudeness. You watch her interact with Bucky and see the flirty fluttering of her eyelashes.

Bucky turned on the charm, which you had to admit, hurt you more than you realized it would.

“Sergeant Barnes, I am looking forward to learning a lot from you,” she said in a sultry voice.

Bucky flushed, understanding her meaning. “Uh, yea anytime dollface,” he said.

Your eyes shot to his face. “Doll” was your nickname. You looked from him to Steve, who just gave you a sympathetic smile.

When intros were done, it was time for dinner. Stacy made sure she sat right next to Bucky, which drove you nuts. Bucky didn’t even spare you a glance when you were forced to sit on the other end of the table. It was like he didn’t even notice you. Not that you blamed him, Stacy did take all the attention in the room. Why did you make this damn bet?

You started feeling very low and self conscious, excusing yourself from the table. You entered your room and quickly went into the shower. You couldn’t help but let some tears fall, thinking you were not good enough for Bucky. Stacy was the type of woman he should be with, not you.

While lost in your thoughts, you don’t notice Bucky entering the shower with you, until you feel his arms around you. You immediately tense when you feel him, feeling the tears fall harder. 

“Doll? You okay?” he asked concerned. You cried harder, holding your face in your hands. Bucky turned you around and held you close, kissing the top of your head.

When you finally calmed down and looked up at Bucky, who had a concerned and sad expression on his face. You step away from him and leave the shower. 

“Y/N?” he called after you. When he made it out to the room in a towel, you were changing into sweats and one of his hoodies. “Baby, please tell me whats wrong?” he pleads.

You look at him with a mix of sadness and anger. “I’m shocked you even noticed I left the table,” you spat.

Bucky is shocked by your words, “What do you mean?” he whispers.

You scoff, “I give you permission to flirt with one woman, and you suddenly forget that you have a girlfriend. Not that I blame you! She's gorgeous, and I’m…” you stop yourself before you sob. 

“Doll, -” “Don’t! Obviously I am not your “Doll” if you are so okay with calling her that!” you screamed.

Bucky shakes his head, putting his hands through his hair. “I don’t understand what's wrong! You told me to do this! I'm sorry I called her “Doll”. Honestly, it meant nothing!” he yelled getting frustrated.

You ignore him and walk to your bed, pulling the covers up to your neck.

“Fine, talk to me when you’re not acting like this.”

You hear Bucky mumble, before you hear the door to your room close. You lie there for a moment, before you decide that you needed to fix this. He was right. This was your idea, just because you couldn't handle it doesn't make it his fault. Though he's a dumbass for calling her "doll". You get up and open your door, walking next door to Bucky’s room. When you open the door you gasp.

Stacy's in Bucky’s room, sliding her hands up his bare chest and reaching up to kiss him, and whats worse is he is standing there holding her hips in only his towel. Tears completely flood your eyes and you leave the room without you noticing. 

–

When Bucky returned to him room after your outburst he opened his door and saw Stacy standing there. 

“What are you doing in here?” he asked, annoyed.

Stacy looks at him with innocent eyes, “I just wanted to thank you for being so nice tonight. I know I was asking a lot of questions during dinner.”

He gives her a small smile, “No problem, but if you don’t mind, I want to be alone.” he said.

“Where are you coming from in only a towel anyway,” she asked, ignoring his last comment, and stepping closer to him. “uh… my girlfriend’s room.” he stuttered, feeling uncomfortable. 

“You have a girlfriend? Who? Does she know you were flirting with me?” she asked in surprise. “Y-Y/N, my girlfriend is Y/N,” he says feeling nervous.

Stacy laughed for a moment, confusing Bucky, “You’re kidding right?” she asked. 

“No, I am dating Y/N. Have been for over three months. I'm sorry if I gave you the wrong impression tonight, but I'm taken,” he said, taking a step back.

“Oh? Well, if you are flirting with me then you must be unhappy. I can make you feel better,” she said stepping closer, sliding her hands up his bare chest.

Bucky froze for a moment, holding onto Stacy’s waist to stop her coming closer. He felt very uncomfortable since he was only in a towel. She started to lean in toward his face. Finally he came to his senses and pushed her away. 

“Agent, this is unacceptable behavior. I know I gave you an impression tonight and that's my fault but I just told you I'm taken. Get out of my room, now” Bucky barked at Stacy.

Stacy was shocked, but didn’t want to push him any further and ran out of the room. Bucky closed the door behind her wiping his face with his flesh hand. He quickly got dressed and went back to your room, wanting to apologize for everything. When he knocked there was no answer. He opened your door and came in.

“Baby?” he called walking further into the room. He checked the walk in closet and then the bathroom, nothing. When he came back into the room, he saw a piece of paper on the bed. He opened it and his heart immediately dropped.

Bucky,

I guess based on what I saw, I am not as crazy as I thought. Though I must be crazy to think someone who looks like me, would be loved by someone who looks like you. I hope you both are very happy together. 

Your Y/N

Bucky quickly ran out of the room and went to Steve’s. He explained everything that happened, which caused some scolding from Steve. 

“I mean I can’t believe you were nice to her after the comment she made about Y/N when she met her,” Steve said. Bucky shook his head, “I know. I’m a fucking moron, okay? But Y/N wanted to do this bet and it went too far. Please you have to help me find my girl. I need her to know that I…” he stopped.

“You love her,” Steve said smirking.

Bucky nodded and blew out a breath. “Please, Steve. I can’t let her think that I don’t love her. I knew she was self conscious, I should have made sure she was alright,” Bucky said kicking himself.

“Okay, pal. Relax, we will find her. Let’s ask the girls first.” Steve said leading Bucky out of his room.

–

“Ok so you saw Y/N was upset and yelled at her instead of comforting her? You're an asshole, Barnes," Nat yelled at him.

“Yea, I know that already. Please Nat, I need to find her,” Bucky pleaded.

“Plus that was mean to do to Stacy, but she still shouldn't have been an bitch to Y/N," She says angrily. "I don’t know where she is, but, if you got your head out of your asses and think you'll find her faster,” she snapped.

Both men looked confused, causing her to roll her eyes. “Men are morons! FRIDAY please track Y/N and send her coordinates to Barnes and Rogers STAT!” she yelled to the AI. 

The men nodded their thanks and headed out.

Nat watched them leave and then called to the AI. “FRIDAY where is Stacy?”

–

You sat on a bench in Battery Park, staring out into the water. You honestly weren’t sure where you were going to go from here. A part of you wanted to go back to the Tower, but didn’t want to see Bucky or Stacy. You figured by now they were lying naked in his bed together. The image making you want to puke.

“Y/N” a whispered voice said, making you jump.

You turn and see Bucky standing there, relief evident in his face. “Baby, I have been looking everywhere for you.” 

He sits down on the bench next to you, and you immediately tensed, something he noticed. 

He swallowed the lump in his throat, “Y/N, I swear, whatever you saw, was not what you think. Stacy… she… she tried to kiss me and I froze. I-I didn’t know what to do, until I finally snapped out of it and threw her out of my room. You have to believe me.” he said grabbing your hand. You don’t look at him, knowing that if you did, you would crack.

“Why would you want to throw her out? She's perfect for you Bucky. You’re perfect for each other. She knows it, I know it, you must know it.” you say quietly, your voice threatening to crack. "This bet was stupid because it proved how right I really was."

Bucky kneels in front of you, holding your face in his hands, forcing you to look at him.

“Belles, she is not perfect for me? Is she beautiful? Sure, but you're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen in my life. I know you're self conscious about your weight and your body, but baby I love your body and I couldn’t care less about your weight because it doesn't matter. You're a strong woman who could kick anyone's ass. I…”

Bucky takes a breath and calm his nerves. “Y/N, I love you,” he says with confidence.

You look at him for a moment and then shake your head. “How can you love someone like me?” you whisper as tears flow down your face.

Bucky stands up and pulls you into his arms. “You're so amazing to me. You don’t care about my past. You only care about who I am now. And as far as how you look, you’re so fucking sexy to me baby! I grew up in a time where our woman had meat on their bones, and that's what I prefer.” he said causing you to laugh.

“Buck, I love you. I love you so much! You mean the world to me, and that's why I was so upset you ignored me tonight. I thought that you finally found someone else that you wouldn’t be embarrassed with. It's my fault for making this stupid bet,” you said. 

“I’m an idiot for tonight. I didn’t realize that I was ignoring you, and I’m so sorry. I should have defended you when she was rude to you, and ignored her. Screw the bet. We were both idiots about that, it wasn't fair to Stacy, even if she is a bitch. However, I do still owe you a weekend getaway, and I promise I will be cold to her from now on,” he said kissing the top of your head. “And you, my love, will never embarrass me.”

You looked up at him, your heart racing in your chest. He leaned down and captured your lips with his. You stepped as close as you could, wrapping your arms tightly around him. When the kiss ended you whispered against his lips, “I love you.”

He smiled and pecked your lips again, “I love you too.”

--

Hope you liked it.

[hanadoesstuffwrong]

No you don't understand this conversation occupies like half of my brain

Excuse me while I ramble incoherently.

Zuko pretty consistently thinks in terms of 'complete task = result'. (Capture avatar = Dad will love him; get gf food = gf won't be grumpy; light candles for date = date not sad etc.) In this case (following her threat) 'prove I won't hurt the others = Friendship with Katara'. He wants to be friends with all of them, not just allies.

He's done what he was told to, but it hasn't changed anything, what is he missing?

Zuko (and the audience) are under the impression that her anger with him is based in her protectiveness, her caution and her strong sense of morality... BUT THEN THIS HAPPENS

Katara turns around and lets him know EXACTLY what he's missing.

This is not about the others, it's not about him being a threat, it's not about Aang. Its about them! Him and Her!

The rug is pulled out from under our feet. And Zuko's. Katara won't forgive him because she did feel a connection to him, felt like she could trust him, and then he hurt her. Then after she's convinced herself that it was all a deception and doesn't matter, this idiot just shows up and reveals that oh, that wasn't a deception at all, that connection was genuine, but he still betrayed her. The others trusting him grates on her because SHE WAS THERE FIRST AND LOOK WHAT IT GOT HER!

I can't even put it into words how much I think about the line 'Oh, everyone trusts you now? I was the first person to trust you, remember?!'

She's reminding him that their relationship didn't start at the Western Air Temple, it started in the catacombs. Maybe Zuko thinks that who he was then is behind him, but Katara doesn't.

No wonder Zuko's next move is, okay, give me a new, specific task that will fix this problem. There must be something I can do to fix it. He tries by finding Yon Rha, but in the end it isn't his actions that lead to her forgiving him, it's her personal judgement and newfound closure.

I think realising that there's no easy task that can salvage their connection helps him move away from feeling like he can earn relationships from people. When he goes to his uncle (after talking to a certain someone might I add), he doesn't list what he's done right to prove why he should be forgiven (as he does when he joins the gaang), he just apologises and accepts that he might not be forgiven no matter what he does because its not something he can earn through performing services for people.

Altogether, this moment is so special because the show for once is willing to admit that the catacombs moment mattered to these characters and they haven't forgotten that.

Ugh they break my brain they really do.

[vivwritesfics]

Were reader is a virgin and although she broke uo w her ex because she wanted to have sex, she has her first time wirh carlos or charles. Not with both. You decide

More hcs, sorry

Warnings: smut, p in v

He was so damn pushy

She wasn't ready

She knew she wasn't ready

And she was gonna listen to her body

But he was pushing and pushing and pushing

And she wouldn't give in

It wasn't something she wanted to break up with him over

Until he revealed himself to be an asshole

And, ofc, best friend Charles was there

To let her crash at his

And get incredibly tipsy with him

And start talking shit about her ex with him

Ramblings of "I just want someone I can trust, you know?"

Like, imagine all the different ways that can be phrased

That was what she was doing

And then Charles

Who was also tipsy

Patted her knee and said "you can trust me"

That as how she ended up kissing him

Gripping his shirt and pulling him on top of her

It was sloppy and messy and they both tasted gross

But neither of them much cared

They worked each others clothes off, not much caring for them as they discarded them on the floor

As soon as they were both naked on the couch, Charles was kissing her boobs and she was reaching for his dick

But he stopped her

"Next time," he said like it was a promise

There was little foreplay

He didn't exactly finger her

He felt her

Felt how tight she was

Even through the alcohol impairing their judgement

He pushed forward

Pushed into her

Slowly

So slowly

When she gasped, eyes squeezing shut, he stopped

And asked if she was okay

When she nodded (a little breathlessly), he kept going

Losing your virginity on a couch is an experience

It's wasn't the most comfortable

But that wasn't what she cared about

She cared about WHO was currently doing her

He was good

Incredibly good

The way he touched her body as he rolled his hips against her

Call her a Virgin but it had her coming in no time

(Lol)

Charles... didn't

He pulled out to finish himself off, spilling into his hand

Next time

Next time they'd be sober

[strangersteddierthings]

In the 19 years Steve's lived in this house, never once has he slammed his front door like that. Too scared of his parents' wrath should it have caused any damage.

It feels good.

He almost turns around to do it again, a fuck you to his parents and every decision they ever forced on him, but then he remembers. They're all in there. Nancy, Jonathan, Argyle, Eddie, Robin. In his living room, making declarations and decisions about Steve's life for him. Or, well, one of them is.

Like his parents do. Did?

He didn't grab his keys, wallet, or even his coat, but he's not going back for them. It's cold, sure, but Steve's sure his anger will keep him warm until he reaches a destination. Any destination.

He just doesn't understand why- Why they keep doing this to him.

Why he keeps letting them.

No. No, that's a lie. He keeps letting them because he knows, deep down, he's not a fighter. Not for himself.

He'll put himself between the ones he loves and danger in a heartbeat; he's done that since the first time he watched a petal-faced monster peel its way out of the Byers' wall in '83.

But his parents trained the fight right out of him when it came to himself. It was easier to not argue, to just do what they wanted. They'd smile at him when he was good. They'd take him with on shorter business trips when he behaved. His mom would even allow a quick hug if he impressed a shareholder with how well-mannered and quiet he was.

He won their affections with obedience.

He's never- Nancy and he love each other now, but in the same way they all love each other after having survived the horrors the Upside Down. But Nancy never loved him the way he'd once loved her. That was bullshit.

Even Robin and Dustin. He knows they love him now. Will love him forever, going forward, but both had admitted to having a predetermined idea of who Steve was and what he was like and they weren't wrong but they also weren't right because Steve's never been Steve a goddamn day in his life.

Steve hadn't even known Steve until monsters came into his life.

The way everyone used to refer to him as the Steve Harrington was a judgement all its own. A thing that he was, and had no say to be otherwise.

Even Eddie, in the Upside Down, and now, in his own house.

Steve finally feels like he might be becoming who he really is and he's surrounded by friends and it just made him stupid. He'd thought it was confidence, when he pulled Eddie aside to talk, to confess, but then-

Eddie telling him he's confused. Like Steve is a child learning new concepts and not an adult who has been questioning how he feels about men since he first noticed other boys in middle school.

Eddie telling him, 'you don't want this, man. Not really.'

It's not fair.

Robin came out to him, and he'd just wanted to make her laugh so she would quit looking so scared. Eddie came out to him, and Steve had thanked him for trusting him. Jonathan, Nancy, and Argyle confess to all dating each other and Steve congratulated them. But Steve comes out and gets told he's confused?

And Steve didn't even refute it. Just got so hurt he couldn't be there anymore. Left his own house because he'd told Eddie he had a crush on him, and asked if he'd like to go on a date sometime and Eddie said no and told him he was confused.

Eddie doesn't get to decide that for Steve! No one but himself can decide if he like guys or not. No one gets to tell him he's confused about what he's feeling.

It's- that's bullshit, is what it is!

Steve turns on his heel and marches back to his house. His hurt has fully morphed to anger now.

Steve hasn't run away from a fight since '83, and he's not going to start now.

He rips his front door open and is greeted to everyone just inside the door, in various states of putting their winter clothes back on. All the faces look concerned, but he scans for Eddie's.

Eddie who looks relieved for all of two seconds, when it seems to dawn on him that Steve is angry, and it's directed at him.

"The appropriate response," Steve growls as he steps through his door and punctuates those words by slamming it shut again. (It's not as satisfying this time, because he sees how it makes his friends jump.) He barrels on with his words, eyes never leaving Eddie, "when someone comes out to you, is to say 'thanks for telling me' or perhaps even 'thanks for trusting me' or, if one is so inclined, to just say 'cool, dude' but you don't get- you don't get to tell me I'm confused!"

Eddie takes a step back, knocking directly in Argyle, who steadies him, but he doesn't say anything.

Maybe Steve should be more calm about this, given the audience, but he's not able to stop the words now that they've started. "I'm not confused, and I know exactly what I'd be getting into. You don't get to- to try and make your rejection my fault. If you don't wanna date me, just say so. But you don't get to try and tell me how I feel about you!"

From the corner of his eye, he can see Nancy trying to subtly shift herself and Jonathan away from the door, probably to get out of what really should be a private conversation, but Jonathan's a bit preoccupied by catching Robin around the waist as she lunges towards Eddie.

"What the fuck did you say, Munson!" Robin growls, arms swinging out like she's going to claw Eddie to death.

Argyle has inched back a bit, putting distance between him and Eddie in case Robin breaks free. "You dudes should probably talk this out in private."

"Byers, if you don't let me go right now-"

"Robbie, I got this," Steve says, because Robin shouldn't be turning on Jonathan when he's done nothing wrong. Robin continues to glare at Eddie for a few seconds before she makes eyes contact with Steve. He raises his brows slight -I got this- and she furrows hers -are you sure?-, so he tilts his head -yes, really- and she deflates in Jonathan's arms and allows him to drag her away.

"We'll just be in the rec room," Nancy says, looping her arm through Argyles and following after Jonathan.

Eddie doesn't bolt, which is a bit more than Steve expected. They both just stare at each other until they hear the click of the rec room door.

"Steve-"

"That was fucked up, Eddie," Steve interrupts.

"Yeah. It was," Eddie says, but doesn't offer up more, even though Steve is waiting for an apology.

"That kind of reaction is exactly why I didn't come out sooner. What would be the fucking point if no one even believed me? Or worse, if you'd given me that kind of reaction like, six months ago, I probably never admit to liking guys out loud ever again. You can't just- you can't decide this kind of shit for other people!"

"I know! I- I freaked out, and panicked, and I'm sorry. I'm so sorry Steve," Eddie says, and he sounds sincere and looks almost fragile while saying it that Steve loses a bit of his steam. He doesn't want to just keep yelling at Eddie.

"Yeah. Well. Thanks for apologizing," Steve mutters, crossing his arms with a huff.

Eddie worries his bottom lip before he seems to gather all his courage and says, "have I fucked everything up between us?"

"No. Not- I'm going to, like, need some time to get over my crush, but no. It's- it'll just be take time-"

"No! I mean, I can't- if you don't, uh, like me like that anymore I get it, but I- what I meant was. Well. No, I guess that answered my question."

Steve is confused, now. For real, and not about his sexuality. "What?"

"What?"

"You did it again. Deciding for me if I liked you or not."

"Shit. Fuck! Sorry," Eddie drops his head into his hands and groans. "I'm fucking this up so bad."

"Than use, like, real, whole sentences and speak to me!"

"I like you!" Eddie blurts. "I have a crush on you, too, but I- I fucked it up!"

"Yeah. Kinda."

Eddie makes a really pathetic noise at that.

"Not so much we can't, like, figure it out, though," Steve offers. "Not, like, right now, because I'm hurt and angry, but like, I'm not going to stop liking you because of one fight. Not. Uh, not now that I know you like me, too."

"Oh," Eddie whispers, then frowns. "For real?"

Steve rolls his eyes. "I said it, didn't I?"

"Sorry, it's just, just good things don't happen to me. It's- I'm processing, okay."

Steve lets out a long-suffering sigh and heads towards the rec room. "If you want to leave to 'process' alone, I get it, but you're welcome to stay. We can get this party re-started and hang out."

Eddie's silent a moment, and Steve thinks he's going to ask if Steve's sure, but instead he gets a quiet, "yeah. I'd like to stay." and the sound of Eddie's footsteps following him to the rec room.

-

@i-less-than-three-you @nburkhardt @afewproblems @skepsiss

[gallusrostromegalus]

So I may have been browsing through your AEIWAM tag and came across your writing of Komamura saying it's too hot in summer when you have a fur coat you can't take off. By that logic he's gonna always be sitting beside Hitsugaya in Captain meetings if he can swing it, especially in the early days, cause that boy is like a mini air conditioner next to him. XD

Wolves are winter creatures. The double coat, the snowshoe paws, the proclivity for cuddlepiles- if Sajin could move somewhere that never got above 40F he'd be in heaven. Alas, he lives in a major city that hits triple digits in the summer, so he keeps close track of the little pieces of winter he can find.

The first person to realize his little game was Unohana. She knew about the wolfman thing- Yamamoto trusts her as much as Sasakibe, and persuaded Sajin that, should a medical emergency arise, it should not also be a medical surprise.

She is of course, the pinnacle of Medical Confidentiality.

...but his name came up during one of the Shinigami Women's Association meetings/boozing sessions, and a distinct schism appeared.

On one side was Soi Fon, Nanao, and Herself, who all found Komamura to be very polite, professional and reliable if somewhat reticent and at times, aloof.

"I swear I can't get more than three words out of him!" Nanao despairs.

"I like him. He knows how to Shut Up." Soi Fon agrees.

"He's a very private man." Unohana nods.

Across the table, Isane and Rukia are baffled.

"Captain Komamura? Ten feet tall, bucket head? That Komamura?" Rukia the so-called Ice Princess asks, gesturing to indicate their height disparity. "What the fuck are you talking about? He's SUPER friendly and will hang around to talk FOREVER."

"Yeah, every time I go to the 7th he always asks me to stay for lunch and wants to know how everyone in my family is doing and swap horror stories from the ER for tales of crazy people in the intake queue." Agrees Isane, wielder of the ice cloud Itegumo. "It's embarrassing, but one time I was more than two hours late getting back because we get to talking!"

Everyone stares at everyone else, baffled.

"Did- did I do something to piss him off?" Wonders Nanao.

"Huh. Maybe he just picked up on how much I hate small talk on the job?" Soi Fon shrugs.

Unohana is silent, thinking.

"GUESS WHO BROUGHT TEQUILA!!" Matsumoto Rangiku announces as she kicks in the door, holding four bottles of liquor, only three of which were still full.

"We need you to settle a debate!" Rukia demands at once.

"Ooh! I love passing judgement on things that don't effect me!" Rangiku coos, sitting down, her chest making an odd 'clunk' sound on the table "- there's also salt and limes!"

"It kinda effects you." Soi Fon waved her hand noncommittally. "How would you describe Captain Komamura?"

"Tall, Heavily Armored and Mysterious?" Rangiku shrugs, pulling the box of kosher salt out of her cleavage.

"...more like his personality." Isane clarified.

"Oh! Uhh... You know what? He's one of the few people that's ever complimented me on streamlining like 80% of the paperwork we have to do." Rangiku nodded, fishing the limes out as well. "Always has stuff done waaaay before I expected and I feel like a bit of a jerk for not replying immediately, but never complains if my stuff comes in late."

"Does he hang around and talk, or is he just really businesslike?" Nanao asks, eyes narrowed behind her glasses.

"Hmm..." Fowns Rangiku. "Kinda varies by the day- Sometimes he's all business, other times he'll stay and chat. I always assumed he wants to talk but sometimes he's got work, you know?"

There is much confused muttering as the limes are cut, when Unohana raises a finger.

"...How is he with Lieutenant Hitsugaya?" She asks.

"Oh, he ADORES Toshiro!" Rangiku nods enthusiastically, salting her shot glass. "He actually does the majority of Toshiro's Bankai training now because The Old Man handed it off to him so he could focus on teaching Zaraki Everything But Kendo- which, bless him for doing that, Shiro-kin could literally freeze my tits off!- and he really does a good job listening to Toshiro's concerns and confusions- he's a sensitive boy, you know? And Koma-kun is so gentle with him and to be honest I always eavesdrop on his advice because I could use it too. Delightful man all around." She nodded, and moved to down her drink.

"...Why?" She asked, pausing her drink and glaring suspiciously at Unohana.

Unohana nods with the clarity of enlightenment. "Nothing serious, but everything makes sense now." She smiles, then cracks into a small giggle. "It's rather charming, actually."

"Care to elaborate?" Soi Fon grumbles.

"Yeah that answered NOTHING." Rangiku glares.

"We noticed an interesting disparity in his behavior." Unohana explains, pushing her own glass towards Rangiku to fill. "For me, Captain Fon, and Lieutenant Ise, Komamura-Taicho is very polite, but sticks to the matter at hand and will not volunteer any further conversation. For Lieutenant Koetetsu, Miss Kuchiki and apparently Lieutenant Hitsugaya, he has all the time in the world and is quite the chatterbox."

"...Weird." Rangiku frowns, intrigued by the puzzle. "For me it's like, half and half?"

"Not quite, I think." Unohana smirks. "What do Isane, Rukia and young Toshiro all have in common?"

The Resounding Silence of Thinking Very Hard around the table was a bit of a disappointment, but they were about three bottles into the evening already.

"Can't be Height." Nanao hummed. "Rukia and Shiro-Kun are shorter than a stack of pancakes but Isane's got legs that are too long for the cover of Vouge."

"Isane and Toshiro are both silver-haired, but not me, and he doesn't seem to be particularly close to Ukitake-Taicho and I think I've actually seen him run out of a room to avoid Gin." Rukia puzzled.

"What? RUDE." Rangiku protested.

"They're all under a century old, right?" Rangiku pondered.

"No, I'm almost two hundred!" Isane sighed. "Oh wait- we all graduated early from the Academy!"

"Ehhhh, I graduated because I got adopted, I'm not a genius like you and Shiro-kun." Rukia waved. "Also, how would HE know that?"

"You're all Lieutenants!" Rangiku perked up.

"Not yet I'm not!" Rukia protested.

"Pfsh- you run half the division anyway. Jushiro should promote you to Co-lieutenant with Kaien already!" Rangiku waved.

"Its- it's complicated." Rukia mumbled. "Also, Nanao-chan is a Lieutenant and he doesn't like her!"

"Does it have to do with how freakishly huge he is?" Soi Fon asked.

"...Yes, actually." Unohana decided. Sajin might not have so much trouble thermoregulating if he was the size of a regular wolf. She reasoned privately.

"Also, He likes Nanao-chan just fine as far as I know. I think it's less about how much he enjoys your company- which I think he does, he's not one for putting on facades- and more about how much he enjoys your Proximity." She clarified, taking her shot. "Oh, this is good, what is it?"

"Cabrito Blanco." Rangiku read off. "Huh. The Cabrito on the label sure ain't Blanco." She frowned at the brown goat.

"None of us have transferred out of the Division we started in, but again, how would he know? and that hasn't got anything to do with Proximity..." Isane frowned.

Rukia slammed her glass down. "WOW that's got a kick. Maybe uhhhh... None of us wear perfume, but Gin doesn't either. I hope. I don't want to get close enough to find out."

"He's really not that bad-" Rangiku sulked. "OH, 'Blanco' refers to the tequila and this is that goat's white tequila!" She realized.

"Sometimes I wish I could take a weekend vacation in your brain. Its machinations fascinate me." Soi Fon teased. "Hmmm... Lotta close but no Cigar, you're all young-ish, Isane and Toshiro have living relatives and Rukia has a large adopted family, but again, not exclusive or Proximal. You're also all S-rank duelists with- OH!"

"Shh, I'm enjoying the flailing." Retsu grinned.

"Pfff- okay, that is kinda cute and I don't blame him." Soi Fon giggled. "Sometimes I'm real glad my seat is right next to The Old Man for the same reason. Or opposite reason, I guess."

"Bwah?" Rangiku frowned.

"I do the same thing with You, Momo and The Old Man that He's doing with them." Soi Fon grinned. Rangiku frowned, peculiar machinations grinding slowly through the tequila, before she suddenly cackled, head thrown back so hard Unohana had to reach out and grab her by the scarf to keep her from tipping her chair over.

"OH NOOOOOOOO!!" She wailed, shoulders shaking. "Oh- that's cute but Toshiro can NEVER find out he'll be such a brat about it!"

"Sorry I'm late, I had to finish the latest report on the Rice Farm Subsidy Fraud Investigation!" Momo panted, jogging in late. "-What can't Toshiro find out about?"

"There is SOMETHING that You, ran-chan and Yamamoto-sama share, and it's the same thing but backwards as what Me, Hitsugaya, and Isane have in common that Komamura-taicho really likes it or something, and THEY know but won't TELL US and its MAKING ME CRAZY!" Rukia wailed.

Momo stood, expression blank for a few moments. "Wait. You didn't know?"

"KNOW WHAT?" Rukia wailed.

"That Komamura hangs around with people with Ic-Mmpf!" Momo started to reveal but was abruptly tackled and the rest of the sentence smothered in Rangiku's Cleavage.

"With WHAT?" Nanao demanded. "What do they have that I don't?"

"-Hang on." Isane frowned, the slowly turned to her captain, squinting. "Is. Is this a... Physics Issue?"

"That's one way to phrase it." Unohana smiled as Momo flailed for air.

"Oh my Gooooood..." Isane groaned. "Why doesn't he just ASK? I'd happily go over and give Itegumo some practice, I hate summertime too!"

"Huh?" Rukia glared, as Momo finally fought her way free and gasped for air.

"Itegumo? That's your- ohhhhhhh." Nanao realized. "That's. Okay yeah that's actually really cute." She giggled. "Poor guy. The armor can't help with that, can it?"

"That's what I keep telling him but it's-" Unohana waved her hands and grimaced with frustration. "-He wears the armor because he's facing the *stupidest* form of Political Persecution I've ever heard of." she sighed.

"Really?" Asked Momo. "Captain Tousen said Komamura told him it's because he's got a major disfigurement or something?"

Unohana sighed and rolled her eyes. "Komamura is FINE, he's just- It's complicated and medically private but trust me, the helmet is a reasonable precaution against an absurd problem."

"Oh." Momo winced. "Well, I'm glad he's medically alright at least!" "I'm so fucking confused." Rukia whimpered, deflating over the table in despair. "Is. Is hanging out with me making him less sick or something??"

"...Yes!" Unohana smiled. "Or at least, makes his condition more physically comfortable."

Rukia turned that over a few times. "...Talking with him is helping?"

"Yes, but only if you're in the same room with him. Doesn't work over the phone." Unohana nodded.

"Okay." Rukia said, reaching for the nearest bottle. "Lets talk about something else."

---

Years Later, after the Bedlam of her attempted execution and Subsequent Rescue, Rukia finally saw Komamura's face.

It was a bit awkward, walking into the hospital room in search of her brother to find a nine-and-a-half foot tall wolfman wearing the Seventh Division Captain's Haori visiting Momo. It took her a moment to realize who he was, and another as some neurons connected and she squawked indignantly, pointing at him.

"My apologies, Lieutenant Kuchiki, but-" He sighed, ears flattening back against his head with Chargin.

"AIR CONDITIONING?!?!" She bellowed.

Komamura scrunched back, chagrined. For a massive apex predator, he did an excellent Kicked Puppy face.

"Rukia!" Momo protested faintly from her hospital bed. "Keep your voice down, I don't want Toshiro to find out!"

"Find out what?" Hitsugaya grunted, stepping out from behind Rukia.

"Ah, Well-" Komamura started to explain.

Rukia rounded on Hitsugaya, pointing behind her at the captain. "THIS JACKASS HAS BEEN EXTRA NICE TO YOU, ME AND ISANE BECAUSE WE ALL HAVE ICE-TYPE ZANPAKUTO AND CHILL THE AIR AROUND US!"

"...Summer is very uncomfortable when you have a fur coat you can't take off." Komamura winced.

"Uh, duh?" Hitsugaya rolled his eyes, strolling into the room. "I didn't know you were chilling Koetetsu and Kuchiki here as well, but I kinda figured you enjoyed the cold when you stayed at my Bankai training like, five times longer than Gramps ever did."

"My apologies for the deception." Komamura bowed his head.

"It's no big deal." Hitsugaya shrugged, putting a hand up to indicate he wanted help up onto the hospital bed, and Komamura obliged.

"See? I use you being tall too." he smirked.

Komamura sighed fondly as the boy sat down between him and Momo. "Momo makes me chill all her juice too, but she never seems to warm up my tea." he handed her a juice box from the vending machine down the hall, covered in condensation.

"It would explode." Momo grumbled.

"Skill Issue." He shrugged and she affectionately swatted him on the leg. "Anyway, don't dogs cool off through their paws?"

"I'm from a wolf clan, but yes." Komamura cocked his head with curiosity, then alarm when Toshiro casually grabbed his forearm and started tugging his Gauntlets off.

"I don't mind being a human ice pack, especially not when it's nintey-eight freakin' degrees out, but be efficient about it, yeah?" Toshiro grumbled, tossing the gauntlet aside and plopping Komamura's pawlike hand on top of his head.

"...Thank you." Komamura smiled gently, and ruffled his hair a bit.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." Hitsugaya shrugged, playing the tough guy even as his ears turned red. "At least you're polite about it! Freakin' Zaraki literally just grabbed me- like, put his whole arm through the office window! and threw me over his shoulders once. Jerk."

"TOSHIRO!" Momo yelped, hand on her face. "You almost made juice come out of my nose!" She half-giggled while Rukia snort-laughed at the mental image.

"Hey Kuchiki!" Hitsugaya growled. "He's got two paws!"

"You can't boss me around! You don't outrank me anymore!" She grinned.

"I have seniority." he teased, and the bed started to shake as Komamura tried not to laugh.

"You really don't need to-" Komamura tried to diffuse the argument. His voice was rock-steady but the wide grin betrayed him.

"You gotta follow my orders though!" Ukitake said cheerfully, appearing in the door. "Hi Lieutenant Hinamori!"

"C-captain!" Rukia yelped, spinning around to Salute. "What are your orders, Sir?

"Shh, nothing's happening. But I did hear you squawking from two floors down, so what's happening?" Ukitake smiled down at her.

"Captain Komamura has APPARENTLY been hanging around me and the other Shinigami with Ice Zanpakuto and using us as Air Conditioners!" Rukia glared up at her commanding officer.

"...Rukia," Ukitake patted her head and smiled gently. "Do you remember where Lieutenant Kaien's desk was?"

"Second door on the left, right next to your office, Sir!" She nodded.

"Right! And where's your desk?" Ukitake asked, leaning in closer to her.

Rukia blinked, confused. "...It's immediately adjacent to your desk in your offi- GOD DAMMIT! NOT YOU TOO?"

"Yep!" Ukitake cheerfully patted her head and then palmed it to turn her around to face Komamura. "Hop to it!"

"Technically, I got the Idea from him, when I saw how he'd rearranged the furniture..." Komamura whispered as he helped her up onto the bed as well and Rukia groaned in defeat, settling next to Komamura where she could sulk at her captain from over the wolfman's broad shoulders.

"Oh, stop pouting!" Ukitake teased, sitting down on the chair beside Momo's bed and leaning back. "It'll be winter soon enough. Actually, Your friend Mr. Yasutora told me about a fascinating wintertime holiday in the Living World-"

[overlysour]

＃VARIOUS GENSHIN CHARACTERS♡ — THEM WHEN THEY’RE JEALOUS

VARIOUS GENSHIN MEN & WOMEN X READER ♡

Wanderer

He can’t help but want to savour your touches and smiles for himself but he knows he can’t keep you to himself.

You made an effort to interact with him, even with his big ego and judgemental comments. So why would you cheat on him?? What would you even get from that?

Also, his newly received anemo vision represented his freedom, so why would he take yours?

He would still be annoyed, probably rolling his eyes, glaring and overall being grumpy if he’s jealous, he’s not just gonna act like nothing is happening!

Might make a scene out of it… overall pretty petty even if you don’t get what you did wrong.

Probably ends up yelling at the person he’s jealous of after telling you someone needed help (did he throw an arrow at some stupid guy that stalks your neighbour? Yes! Was it just because he needed to distract you? Yes! (also partly because the neighbour wouldn’t shut up about how they have an admirer to you and he wanted attention)).

Aether

It really depends on the situation but he won’t act on what he deems to be unreasonable jealously. He thinks it’s unfair to act in that way when he’s been flirted with by many in front of you, though you still try not to react.

If he thinks it’s reasonable then he will act, just briefly though.

Would probably ask for help with a commission, muttering a sorry and making sure to give you a loving hug.

Understands the feeling of loosing someone very well so he’d want to still make it slightly obvious that you’re his and he’s yours.

Rosaria

Would likely threaten anyone making you uncomfortable in anyway.

If she’s just feeling jealous due to you speaking with someone closely then she absolutely won’t make a scene, though most likely asking who they were and what their relationship is with you.

Might make an excuse to walk off with you..

Overall chill but quick to threaten or drag you off.

Dottore

Doesn’t really come out of his lab much unless going to other nations for fatui missions so he wouldn’t really get the chance to watch you converse with others.

Though If he does get jealous then he’d be slightly colder to you then usual.

Petty as heck (much like many other characters but way more in a ‘I’m-gonna-kill-whoever-that-was’ type of way).

If you were his lover then he’d think high of you, meaning he’d think of stuff like ‘that measly brat doesn’t deserve someone like [Name]’

Wouldn’t make contact with the cause of his jealously, instead gaining small details about them just in case.

Quickly pulls you off, glaring at the probably already scared person.

Acts normal once away, might be the tiniest bit more affectionate.

Xiao

Understanding yet one to quickly go take out anger on any unsuspecting enemies he can find at that moment.

If it’s someone he trusts then he wouldn’t go let his anger out, instead opting to give you more affection then usual.

He doesn’t want to loose you, since he’s lost so many people over the years.

Though it wouldn’t to be death, he wonders if it’d make him feel worse knowing that he’d lost you to emotions.

Overprotective but watches from afar I guess??

Albedo

He’s well aware of human emotions but I think he’d be a little confused at first, like why was he jealous so easily? Also how is he feeling such intense feelings?

Treats it as an experiment on himself, though still making sure he’s keeping any more-than-friendly remarks off anyones tongues (he’d like to hope that you wouldn’t do that but he’s prepared to be a barrier between you two anyways)

Trusts you but won’t hesitate to send a cheeky smile at the person as he plants a kiss on your hand and you become increasingly flustered.

Ayaka

Absolutely makes no scene, she’d just feel a bit self-conscious.

If you give her lots of love then she’ll easily forget about it (though it may linger in her mind for a while no matter what).

Kind and collective, openly stating her worries with you if given encouragement or if you’re worried about her.

Venti

Honestly quite chill depending on what’s happening.

Though no matter the situation, he’ll butt in your conversation by kissing you and hugging your waist with an innocent smile.

Can be intimidating but would only ever act that way when no others can see him act like that, therefore nobody would believe the person and he’d be known as a cheerful and carefree bard!

Childe

Absolute child about it (pun not intended 😗).

He will hang onto your waist whilst he hugs your back as he glares at his source of jealously.

Acts like nothing happened afterwards, dragging you wherever suits him that he thinks you’d like.

Won’t really think about it again, only feeling the need to protect you from harm or people with the wrong intentions.

Diluc

Calm as long as it’s not much of a big deal, extremely understanding and not afraid to let people know that you two belong to each other only and any objections will be ignored.

If it’s a bigger deal then that, then he’ll keep his calm facade and act relatively normal and understanding but with a small loss of patience.

Worst case scenario, he’ll threaten them without a smile in sight.

Won’t pay much mind to what happened, only focused on perhaps kissing you on the cheek or hand a bit more.

Zhongli

A man that is genuinely not that easy to make jealous, seemingly always calm and knowledgeable.

If in a situation that he becomes jealous, he’ll kindly ask to speak with you and then express his feelings.

Would easily sort out any misunderstandings between you two.

To be continued. I will take requests on what characters people want included!

[cheriladycl01]

I cant do this anymore - George Russell x Wolff! Reader P2

Plot: You are the daughter of Toto Wolff team principle of Mercedes-AMG Petronius, you’ve worked your whole life to become an Engineer. However, your dad has other ideas for you and doesn’t want you to become a race engineer. You start to confide more in the Red Bull racing Team Principle to help you get an engineering job, and see him as a present father figure.

A/N hope you guys eat this up

Credit to russellius for the GIF

“Max, hey bud” Charles says walking up to Max, patting him on the back. The group formed around Sergio, Dani and Max. All of them wanting to know why Y/N was in the Red Bull garage.

“Hello Charles” Max smiles taking a long sip from his team water bottle.

“So why was mini Wolff sneaking around here, is she with one of you, well more likely Sunshine Boy over here?” Alex asks, hoping for his prediction to be right, obviously thinking Dani to be the most likely choice considering both Max and Sergio were off the market.

“Unfortunately no” Dani sighs dramatically leaning against the wall.

“One of your fine engineers then maybe?” He adds, he wanted to be right. Lily and Y/N were close friends and Lily had admitted that she had been acting strange for the last few months. Kind of like when she has a secret new boyfriend who she thinks her dad won’t approve off, just slightly different. He trusted Lily on her judgements and didn’t think she’d be wrong.

“No, not that we are aware of” Sergio admits, looking between Max and Dani to see if any of them had anything else to admit, but they both kept quiet. George and Lando looked between each other, wondering why else she would be here.

“Well I’m sure Toto won’t mind me telling him his daughter was nearing around the Red Bull garage” George admits, a scowl on his face.

“Don’t tell him” Max says, his husky voice deepening, glaring back at George.

“You can’t stop me, he’s my team principle. I can tell him anything” George retorts, George had a crush on you for back in his Williams days, and the minute he moved closer to you in Mercedes it was even more prominent. Toto had learned of this and forbid him from ever actually doing anything about his feelings for you. So anything that affected you, or something that was a suspected harm to you George would for sure be all over trying to help you.

“Look, if you don’t want to hurt her… like we all know you don’t. Then you won’t stay anything alright” Max says getting all up close to George, before tapping shoulders as he walks off into the hospitality of Red Bull. Sergio and Daniel follow after him leaving the four confused at Max’s odd words.

“What the hell was that about” Lando asks, he knew Max struggled with his anger but there wasn’t exactly anything to be angry about. Lando knew Y/N they were very very close. So the fact that all of this was going on was making his head spin.

“I have no clue, but I think we should talk to her” Alex admitted.

“She isn’t going to talk to us though, not with the way she ran off today” Charles offers.

“This is a job for Lily and Alex” Alex admits knowing how close the three girls were. In their free time on race weekends they’d all go for lunch and out for shopping and often had girlie spa vacations together.

Thursday came around very quickly, and you’d made your way to the Red Bull garage in the early hours of the morning, Christian had been there waiting for you and handed you the team shirt that you would wear while you worked here. You guys had joked about potentially making a campfire so that you could burn your Mercedes gear, but Christian said that that was going a little bit too far.

Now it was halfway through the day, and all the team principles were in a meeting, one that was being held on media day by Sky Sports.

“So Christian have you managed to find anyone to be Max's race engineer for this race that is up to the standard of his last who will be out for a long period of time" Martin Bundle asks.

"We have in fact, are we allowed to have her come up on stage for introductions?" he asks pulling his mic a little closer to him.

"Oh woah, how does Max feel about having a female engineer?" a random reporter from the back shouts, making Christian frown at the question.

"Well, he is sad to see his current engineer go as they have been together for a while now, but he's very welcoming to the idea of having someone new" Christian says, currently Max's PR manager was trying to get you to go up on stage and sit in the seat next to Christian but you pulled your Red Bull cap down, trying to stay as low-key as possibly.

"Y/N come on you have to go there!" she offers trying to get you to go up on stage.

You eventually get pushed up on stage, back to the cameras and the cap completely covering your face. Your head stayed down the whole time before taking your seat.

"Show them" Christian whispers to you, you lift you head up looking at all the reporters in front of you. Camera flashes erupt throughout the room the minute they spot you.

"Is that Y/N Wolff?" One of the reporters asks in shock, making Christian look at you with a proud smile.

"I'm extremely happy and proud to confirm that Y/N Wolff will be joining us as Max Verstappen's engineer until further notice" he beams, pulling you in for a hug.

"Toto? Did you know about this?" Martin asks, looking over to the older male whose face was full of anger, disappointment and betrayal.

"No" he answers bluntly crossing his arms over his chest.

"How do you feel about this?"

"Well, I don't think its good sportsmanship at all, I should have been told about this. I have been betrayed by my own flesh and blood" he sneers looking over at you, your head tilting down.

"And Y/N what made you make this change?"

"Let's just say, Mercedes weren't giving me opportunities, that Red Bull now are" you smile, you stay by Christians side for the rest of the meeting before leaving only to find most of the drivers all waiting for you in a communal area.

"Well done we're proud of you. And i cant wait for testing tomorrow!" Max says pulling you into a hug.

"How could you do this to your dad, he's given you everything" George shouts pushing Max away from her and stepping up to her. Lando and Alex come up either side of him to make sure he doesn't actually do anything to hurt his imagine.

"I - I wasn't happy..." you started but get interrupted by him again.

"What, not happy being a golden child? Not happy being born into wealth and not having too do anything because daddy paid for everything. Not happy that your clothed in designer brands everyday, or that you travel in a private jet all around the world. Is that not enough?" he shouts at her, he kept walking closer and closer to her, backing her up until she was against a wall. All the other drivers followed, Lando even trying to pull George back by his wrist was was flicked off the second there was contact.

"George" Alex starts, not liking how close he was. But with all the commotion and all the shouting, Toto also decided to join the group of drivers surrounding you. Shouting and asking why you'd left Mercedes for Red Bull.

In the state of things your mind couldn't keep up with everything that was being thrown at you, your voice was week as you quality started to beg them to stop. Your hands came up over your ears everything getting too much. Tears were forming in your eyes, and your legs gave out as your back slid down the wall, your shaking form now on the floor.

"EVERYONE BACK UP" you hear as voice shout. Within seconds someone is helping you up, while helping you to walk to the garage.

"Hey hey hey, its okay, its okay" Christian says to you as he holds your shaking body, hugging you tightly to your chest while brushing your hair comfortingly.

"I I" you stutter not not actually be able to breath.

"He shouldn't have said that you, and the others should have done more to stop him. I'm sorry i wasn't there. Max came and got me, I told him to come back here" he explained as you sobbed more into his chest.

The thought of someone who was once your friend turning on you saying such horrible and disgusting things about you, was something you didn't think you'd ever have to experience.

"Maybe he's right though" you said in a small voice.

"No he's not and tomorrow with Max will prove that to you" he smiles, getting up and holding his hand out for her.

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @stupidandunnecessary @clayra-g @daemyratwst @honey-belden @moonypixel @lauralarsen @vader-is-hot @ironcowboycopnickel @itsjustkhaos @the-untamed-soul @beebo86 @happylittlereader @ziejustme @lou-larcher5 @thewulf @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @chillyleclerc @chanthereader @annoyingmoonballoon @summissss @evieepepi08 @havaneseoger08

Just a reminder I am a minor free or minors do not interact blog, if you are a minor please do not interact!

[mysunshinetemptress]

Meet me in the Hallway

Leah Williamson x Styles!reader

Disclaimer: i know leah wore the suit in 2022 but for this it’s 2021.

Y/n sighed running her hand down her dress nervously as her brother walked through the door fixing his cuffs “right cars going to be here in 10.” Y/n nodded looking as her phone lit up for the fifth time in two minutes “who in the hell keeps texting you.” Y/n looked at the vanity her stomach filling with butterflies before turning back to her brother “Sorry H, it’s the group chat talking about international break coming up.” Harry nodded understanding his younger sisters busy schedule “alright but please turn it just for tonight we barely ever get to do anything like this together.” Y/n looked back at her phone before nodding.

Sitting in the car Y/n couldn’t help herself as she tapped on the empty seat beside her as Harry looked at her quizzically “what’s wrong Y/n/n.” Y/n hummed turning to face him “nothing H.” Harry shook his head “I’ve seen you, play matches no problem for both England and United you don’t ever get this nervous, it’s just an award show.” Y/n nodded along to her brothers words “I know H, but I’m not used to this I’m scared of the judgement of standing on a red carpet let alone standing next to you.” Harry shook his head “hey your Y/n Styles an amazing football player who has helped her childhood club grow into the WSL, who will make the Great Britain roster this summer and the England roster next summer, yeah your my little sister but that’s not all you are or all you are worth trust and the only people that are allowed to have that opinion of you are the one who have your phone number ok.” Y/n nodded before turning to look back out the window as they pulled up to the red carpet.

Y/n and Harry stood for photos together and then some separately before splitting for a bit to do interviews “Y/n hi any chance of a quick interview.” Y/n nodded letting out a soft “of course making her way over. “Hi I’m Morgan.” Y/n shook Morgan’s hand before getting into the interview “what’s it like attending an award show with none other than Harry Styles.” Y/n couldn’t help but sigh internally knowing she shouldn’t have gotten her hopes about being asked questions about herself “I mean he’s my brother so it’s pretty normal he doesn’t act any different if that’s what your asking.” Morgan smiled nodding “and can you give us any clues is he going to be releasing any new music.” Y/n turned looking at the celebrities walking the carpet looking for either her brother or anyone really to get her out of this “ehm I’m not really sure, it’s not something I ask as I know it’s a process and one that takes time when he’s ready to share it with the world you will know.” Y/n turned to the carpet once more as Morgan began to ask her final question before Y/n caught eyes with Alex Scott who smiled brightly bounding over to the younger girl “oh my god hello gorgeous.” Y/n let out a laugh pulling Alex into a hug “hi Al.” Morgan cleared her throat before asking the question again “one final question Y/n and I let you get back to it, what is your favourite Harry Styles song.” Y/n looked at Alex “hum that’s hard Al have you got a favourite song of Harry.” Y/n couldn’t help her eyes drift to the figure behind Alex or the butterflies that erupted once more in her stomach the second the figure caught her staring. “Oh I’d have to say favourite song sign of the times Y/n, and favourite match performance of Y/n’s is probably her being the youngest start during the 2019 World Cup and she did not disappoint.” Alex wrapped her arms around you giving you a squeeze “and Y/n favourite song.” Morgan continued ignoring Alex’s last bit “Fine Line.” Morgan gave you both a quick thank you before you both turned to leave “I hate these.” Alex looked at you softly before turning at the sound of her name “you are so much more than his sister remember that.” Y/n nodded thanking Alex before her eyes drifted behind her again turning as she felt her cheeks heat up.

Harry sat at the table watching his sister who nervously played with the table cloth as she looked around the room “Y/n are you sure your ok.” Y/n nodded smiling at Chloe Kelly as she came running over “ahhh Y/n your here.” Y/n got up wrapping Chloe in a tight hug swaying back and forth “aww it’s so good to see you, I’ve missed you.” Chloe and Y/n began discussing the current season before Y/n remembered who she was here with “oh Chloe this is my older brother Harry, Harry this is one of the best forwards I’ve ever seen.” Harry stood up shaking Chloe’s hand as she looked at you surprised “holy shit Y/n.” Y/n laughed at her shocked expression “I’m sorry I know you guys are siblings but to actually see you guys together is mind blowing.” Y/n laughed sitting down as Chloe,herself and Harry began chatting.

Y/n sat holding Harry’s hand nerves shooting through the roof as they began calling out the nominees for British signal “and the winner is Harry Styles Watermelon Sugar.” Harry looked at you surprised as you pulled him into a hug “oh H go I’m so proud.” Harry stood kissing Y/ns cheek rushing up to get his award. Y/n knew she was supposed to be paying attention to her brother but she couldn’t help her eyes drifting to a certain figure sat two tables over straightening her dress as the nerves kicked in again.

Y/n was stood in an empty Hallway trying to turn her phone back on when she felt two hand wrap around her waist “ignoring me tonight my love.” Y/n sighed relaxing into her loves arms “no just wanted to be present for Harry and you make that extremely difficult when you light up my phone every five minutes.” Y/n smiled feeling the breath on her ear “I was simply telling you how sexy you where in that dress darling the silver really matches my green but it would suit my Hotel floor better.” Y/n sighed turning to look at the ocean blue eyes she so often gets lost in. “Oh really.” Y/n couldn’t help her eyes drop to the most kissable lips she had ever known “I found it really hard to just sit there and watch as Chloe came over they way she hugged you and wouldn’t let go of your arm had me wanting to shoot up out of my seat.” Y/n hummed once more wrapping her hands behind the older girls neck “you could have I wouldn’t have minded, maybe could have introduced you to my brother.” Y/n felt her self deflating at her girlfriends words “you could do that anyway you know I’d love to meet him maybe get him to tell me stories about you.” Y/n sighed “I mean as my girlfriend not as my friend.” Y/n pulled the blondes face towards her dying for a kiss “I like this though, our little bubble of privacy.” Y/n stopped her movements “this doesn’t feel like a private relationship to me, it feels like you want to keep me, us, our beautiful relationship hidden.” The Arsenal defender shook her head “I don’t I just don’t want unwanted opinions or attention on our relationship.” Y/n shook her head “so our families are unwanted opinions.” The taller girl sighed “can we please just drop this for now, I just want to kiss you and hold you and maybe even slip my hotel room card into you hand and tell you to meet me after.” Y/n sighed before nodding “ok yeah I’m sorry Le, I just..this, today would have been so much easier if I could do this with you instead of by myself or with H.” Leah hummed pulling her girlfriend into a searing kiss. “I promise soon ok.” Y/n nodded pulling Leah down into another kiss as they both relaxed into each others arms “I love you ok.” Y/n nodded “I love you too.”